


Love Like Lava

by dixiemame33



Category: Disney Cartoons (Classic)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-09-17 06:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 122,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9310352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixiemame33/pseuds/dixiemame33
Summary: An AU where the Greek Myths live once more. Newborn goddess Aphrodite, also known as Minnie, is confused about her place in the world. Everyone praises her for her beauty, but no one wants to know her. Meanwhile, the lonely god Hephaestus, also known as Mickey, figures his sad little life will never change. No one wants to know him either, since he was a rejected son from high above. Naturally, they meet. Naturally, they fall for each other. Naturally, being together isn't going to be easy when you mix in jealous rivals, bizarre powers, and the haunting question of the difference between pity and love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my newest project - Love Like Lava, a Greek Myth AU about Aphrodite and Hephaestus! 
> 
> And let me get this straight right away : I don't intend to follow the Greek Myths to the exact letter, cause... well, that'd make this a very gross story. I think of it more as re-imaging a fairy tale, like I did with The Nutcracker, Segreto/The Little Mermaid, Grimm City/Red Riding Hood, etc.
> 
> As always, tremendous amounts of thanks for my wonderful editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted.

It started with a feeling. It was small, at first, tugging at the back at the minds of all the gods and goddesses, be they on Mount Olympus, in the depths of the Underworld, or taking their pleasures in the realm of mortals. A whisper of their own voices told them “something is coming”. Many of the higher-ups, like Hera, the queen of the gods, and Ares, the arrogant god of war, ignored the message – something was always coming, they reasoned, such as the start of a new day. But when the new day came, the feeling grew stronger – something was coming. With each and every passing day, this feeling got stronger, the voices louder until it couldn't be ignored. It wasn't even apparent whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, only that something that was coming. Eventually the lower godly creatures, such as Persephone the demigoddess, and the nymphs and mermaids and satyrs, could no longer hold themselves back, and spoke about it in hushed tones. The conversation moved up higher and higher on the chain until no one on Mount Olympus could ignore it – something was coming. 

Zeus, ruler of all the gods, was the most frightened – prophecies had been told that a son would dethrone him, as he had done to his father, and his father had done to his own. Thus he commanded that all the gods and goddesses to scour the mortal lands for the thing that was coming. Perhaps one of the hundreds of ladies he had frolicked with was expecting. So far, no child of his had ever had the power or will to take what belonged to him, but the fear ate away inside of him. When his searchers would return with no news, he would roar at them to search again, holding his fists high as a warning to their next failure.

Soon he demanded the search be spread among the demigods, the nymphs, the mermaids, the satyrs, and all who were not mortal. Days were spent in wasteful looking, and it became mutually agreed that whatever was coming, it wasn’t wanted. The thing wasn’t even here yet and it was already causing so much trouble. Some of the more nefarious immortals thought of killing the something upon seeing it. The more peaceful gods overheard this, and argued that they needed to give the something a chance. One particular argument of this fashion occurred on a large beach that wasn’t too far from Mount Olympus. The angry ones and the peaceful ones argued incessantly, ready to grab their weapons and brutally prove their way if that’s what it took.

But before a sword could leave its scabbard or a spear could be lobbied, they all felt a new feeling wash over their minds. Instead of being told something was coming, now the feeling said something was _there._ All their heads turned toward the ocean. During their yelling and stomping of feet, a large pink seashell larger than the tallest mortal ever born had slid onto the sand. Silence fell on the group as the seashell opened, and the occupant brushed off sea foam from her dress. After getting herself partially cleaned up, she stepped out of the shell, trying to keep her flowing dress from getting wet. She was a young lady mouse, fur as dark as the furthest depths of the ocean, and eyes shining like brilliant sea shells. Little wisps of hair curled around her large ears, rolling back and forth like waves on a calm day. She then looked up at the mighty gods and goddesses and smiled. “Hello,” she chirped. “Would you mind telling me where I am?”

And thus, the goddess Aphrodite arrived into the world.

~*~

Mount Olympus was an infinite space, defying both time and logic. It was a mystical mountain, forged on the tallest point on the planet, unable to be seen by any human. It reached out into the stars, and stretched across endless floors and chairs, with an infinite supply of food and drink of all kinds. Dark clouds floated in and out of their sanctuary, typically surrounding the most imperial thrones belonging to Zeus and Hera. It was an all-encompassing space, yet at that moment, Zeus thought their home felt very crowded. That probably had to do with the entire trail of gods and goddess following the new figure he was unfamiliar with. Hera wasn't with him, which was good fortune for Aphrodite – most likely she was drinking away her anger and sorrows. Lord Zeus looked down from his throne at the newcomer, and he drew a long breath as he got a good look at her. “ **What’s this?** ” His mighty voice boomed, slamming a hand down on his chair in delight. “ **What is this marvelous creature that has stepped before me?** ”

The newborn goddess blinked up at him. Was she supposed to answer that? She looked behind at her at all the men and women gazing so intensely upon her. “I’m not sure,” she finally responded. “They told me to come up here.” She shrugged, but it was the simple truth. They'd forgotten their quarrel and immediately grabbed her by her tiny wrists, heading right to the mountain in song and celebration. The goddess kept asking important questions, such as who they were and where she was, but her efforts went ignored. After a while, she decided to try and be patient and hope the answers would be delivered.

“ **Mount Olympus has been blessed!** ” Zeus declared, standing up and waving a hand. “ **For this is the goddess that surpasses all others! We will redefine beauty in her name and image! Let us all praise and celebrate!** ” He stomped his foot hard, and as the newcomer heard all the wild cheering behind her, she began to realize Zeus wasn’t exactly talking to her – or listening. He grabbed a handful of clouds, and threw it down on the floor, instantly materializing it to a chair adorned with jewels. “ **Here shall she sit, as one of us!** ”

She raised her black-furred hand in a small attempt to be noticed. “It’s very nice, but I’d like to ask-”

“ **And her name shall be… Aphrodite!** ” Zeus continued onward, and the newly named goddess squeaked as multiple arms lifted her up, plopping her into the seat. “ **Goddess of beauty! And…** ” Only then did Zeus pause in his incredibly loud speech. He turned his head toward her, eyes transfixed. Aphrodite shrugged again, helpless to his inquiry. How was she supposed to give him any answers when he wouldn't offer any first? But at least having a name was nice. After a moment of intense study between the two, Zeus waved again, his firm hand outstretched. “ **And goddess of love! All hail Goddess Aphrodite! Let the celebration begin!** ” 

And so it was echoed back and forth between the crowd.  
“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”  
“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”  
“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”

Aphrodite sighed heavily, leaning on an open palm and watching the party begin. All right, so today she wasn't going to get any answers. At least everyone seemed to be happy, though for a celebration all about her it seemed to barely include her. Maybe tomorrow someone would finally listen to what she had to say. 

~*~

The celebration lasted an entire month, full of drink and feasting. It was difficult to tell whether Zeus was celebrating the arrival of such a lovely goddess or that he was incredibly relieved the prophecy hadn’t been fulfilled. Yet all of the gods, save for eternally jealous Hera who spent her time either drinking heavily or glaring daggers at the new woman, were happy to join in the merriment. As the declared the goddess of love and beauty, they continuously praised her body, her face, her eyes, all which exuded her loveliness. The goddess mostly accepted these things without asking anything, nodding and going along with whatever they were saying. However as the month of partying continued, the goddess felt boredom building up inside of her. She wasn’t rude enough to say so as her tiny feet dangled off her imperial throne, but she was rather looking forward to the whole thing ending. Maybe then she could finally _do_ something.

When the month was over and the gods resumed their lives, Aphrodite hopped off of her chair, and started to walk. It felt wonderful to move again! She skipped, she twirled, she bounced, but it occurred to her that if she dilly-dallied too long here, the others might suddenly praise the beauty of her movement and a whole new party would start. She absolutely had to get away before _that_ nonsense picked up again.

But where to go? No one had ever answered her questions, so when she looked down at the fluffy clouds that made up the floor, she tilted her head in thought. With a wave of her hand, the clouds parted, and she saw the whole scope of the mortal realm before her. Having little to no idea of what was below, she decided it couldn't possibly be any more boring than Mount Olympus. So she jumped.

~*~

The demi-goddess Persephone didn’t notice she had company at first. She was taking a nap on a flowerbed, imagining sordid things between her and her husband. It was one of her favorite hobbies on the mortal plane, and many elaborate gardens had been born whenever she felt like taking a snooze. Today she'd been found a particularly grassy area a stone's throw from a mortal village, and she flopped on her back without hesitation. Later that day, the villagers would find a whole collection of roses, daises and honeysuckles to pick from. As for this moment, when she turned over in her rest, her hand brushed upon a very silky texture. Knowing no flower had such a feel, her eyes popped open, and she looked at her guest. 

Goddess Aphrodite was perhaps the smallest goddess to have ever grace Olympus. Since her form was a mouse, this was to be expected – though Aphrodite had heard murmurs during the party that someone named Hephaestus used to be the tiniest. Her black fur was neatly smoothed down at all times, as was her dress, that color of sea foam that always seemed to be flowing around her despite the lack of wind. A pretty little lock of bangs hung from her forehead and Persephone noted that her eyes seemed to change color – perhaps to better suit whoever was looking at her. For Persephone, they were grass green, and the newcomer smiled. “Hello.”

Persephone needed a moment to collect herself – she had never seen someone so beautiful before. She blinked hard, trying to get out of her stupor, but in doing so, she realized exactly who this must have been. “Are sudden entrances your thing now?” Persephone forced herself to sit up, brushing flower petals off of herself. She hadn’t meant to sound irritable, but she had been awoken from a particularly lovely dream. She ran a hand over her head, flattening her white feathers, and her dress squeezed itself against her body to give a better appearance. If one took a better look, they would see her dress was actually made out of thin vines wrapping around herself. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be having another round back on the mountain.”

“That got boring,” Aphrodite admitted with a shrug. Her eyes kept roaming all over Persephone, curiosity in every blink. Though she was trying to be still, she kept leaning in to get a better look at this and that. “I wanted to come down here and see what we ruled over.”

“And you started with me?” Persephone’s frown on her beak grew larger. She was not one to be ruled over – she had gotten more than enough of that from her overprotective mother.

“No. I wanted to know what these were.” Aphrodite pointed to above Persephone’s head. 

Persephone glanced up – she wasn’t surprised to see the incredibly tall roses that had grown during her slumber. They had hunched over so they could coat her with petals, but now that she was up, they had started to shrink down in respect. “What, you’ve never seen a rose before? I thought you were the all-knowing symbol of love and beauty.” She smirked in a bit of a mean fashion, but it stopped when Aphrodite shrugged again.

“That’s what they say,” Aphrodite replied casually, picking up one of the rose petals and twisting it around her fingers to inspect it. She would've eaten it if Persephone didn't look at her with wide eyes, and so she let it drop back to the ground.

Persephone also picked a rose petal up, and rubbed it between her fingers. It smeared red on her fingers, which she used to add blush to her cheeks. “They’re called roses. Since I’ve got rule over plants like my mother, they tend to pop up whenever I think of someone I love.”

Aphrodite plucked a whole rose for herself, admiring it. “It’s very pretty.” The rose appeared to bow in her hands, the thorns falling off one by one in reverence. She seemed a little disappointed that even plants were treating her as super special. 

Persephone hesitated, studying Aphrodite's bizarre expression. She'd heard a few things from her mother about Aphrodite – but come to think of it, it had all been about her beauty. Nothing else of notice. Nothing about her personality, nothing about her intelligence, not even if she preferred red over blue. With a rare dash of humility and pity, Persephone sat on her knees and straightened herself up, in order to start over and make a proper introduction as one immortal to another. “My Goddess name is Persephone. My chosen name is Daisy.” She lowered her head respectfully, as did all the flowers in tune with her.

Aphrodite looked up the rose, having started to pick its petals for herself. She had wanted to see what the “inside” of a rose looked like, but the concept of different names threw her off. “What’s a chosen name?”

Persephone – Daisy, rather, now stared twice as hard. Hadn’t this newborn goddess been told anything? Then it hit her hard – this really was a newborn, in the biggest sense of the word. “Sheesh,” she muttered under her breath. “All they did was tell you that you look good.” She began to stand up, making this decision more out of annoyance than real responsibility. “Look, if you want to hang out around me, you’re going to learn how things work. First off, the chosen name is what you give yourself after Zeus gives you a name. It’s what you allow your friends and family to call you, those that mean something to you.”

Aphrodite brightened considerably, dropping the forgotten flower and clasping her hands together eagerly. “Does this mean we’re friends?” The partygoers had been nice, in a way, but they weren't exactly what one could call friends. If what she thought of the concept was true, then she desperately wanted a friend.

Daisy almost said no. She looked down at the tiny goddess, whose innocent eyes sparkled with discovery. The dear probably didn’t have any actual friends. Daisy clicked her tongue and then held her hand out. “Yes, we are. Now come along, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

The two goddesses went out into the mortal world, one teaching the other. It shocked and angered Daisy that her companion had been told so astonishingly little. Daisy hadn't been at the party, as she'd chosen to never visit Olympus. Her mother, Demeter, had gone to the celebration the first couple of days, more out of obligation more than anything else, and she had only seen a few glimpses of Aphrodite. Each time, she told her daughter, Aphrodite had been sitting on her new seat while the gods poured gifts at her feet, telling her how beautiful she was. Daisy now realized that was the only thing they did to her and with her. They hadn’t treated her as a new member of Olympus, but instead as more of a trophy, something to admire on the mantle. This made it difficult to teach at first, as Daisy continued to assume that Aphrodite would know the simplest of things, yet Daisy would only be rewarded with a head tilt.

Thankfully, it turned out Aphrodite had a personality under her naivety. She was cheerful and pleasant, able to find happiness in the smallest of lessons. She cared deeply for others, even those she just met, and she eagerly enjoyed each new thing she learned. Yet she was so bored of all those men and women who slobbered at her feet and told her she was pretty, pretty, pretty...yes, she got the idea but what else was there? She didn’t even like being worshipped. Daisy found herself being drawn to the dear, although she couldn't tell if this was actually friendship or pity. Either way, Aphrodite was happy.

The day was almost over when they walked into that small mortal village, the sun sinking into the earth. Mortals could not see them unless the goddesses wished for it, and for now, the two were content to be hidden. Daisy had been leading Aphrodite to the local temple, which worshipped the god of war, Ares. “See, when we have temples, people come here to pray to whatever god is housed there.” This temple was the tallest building in the village, and murals on the walls depicted famous battles. Aphrodite didn’t care for it. The murals were ghastly in their depictions of the loss of life, and instead of praising a victor, the paintings praised the actual taking of lives. She could smell dust and rotted animal meat from within and she grimaced.

“Sometimes they ask us for favors, or guidance,” Daisy continued, ignoring Aphrodite’s disgust, though she too found the temple to be quite garish. “Or they just thank us. Since this is Ares’ temple, they come here to ask for his help when they know a fight is coming.”

“What if whoever they’re fighting also prays to him?” Aphrodite asked, stepping away from the temple that seemed to tower over her in a superior fashion.

“Usually, whoever makes the best sacrifice gets the win.” Daisy now started to notice Aphrodite’s displeasure, and tried to think of a way to change the subject while still teaching her friend. “I suppose when you get a temple made, they’ll come to you asking for good luck on their weddings, since you're the goddess of love.” Then she paused. Here was another lesson in a lesson. “A wedding is when two people-”

“I know what a wedding is!” Aphrodite suddenly interrupted, whipping her head around.

Daisy stopped, startled. Aphrodite had to be told what certain animals were, what rain was, and even the names of gods she already met. “…You do?”

“Oh, yes!” Aphrodite was getting cheerful again, but it was much more than before. She was rocking on her heels, hands clasped together. “I know all about them. That’s when two people pledge their love for one another with a special ceremony. They declare how much they care for each other with their family and friends present.” She placed her hands over her chest, as if she was the blushing bride. “They exchange golden rings which become a symbol of their love to whoever they meet. They vow to love only each other, for the rest of their lives. And everyone there celebrates their unity.”

Daisy’s eyebrow quirked up. “You didn’t know what roses were, but you know that much about weddings? Who told you?”

“No one told me. I just know.” Aphrodite shrugged. It had come as naturally to her as breathing. Was this really so strange? She was afraid for a moment that she had offended her first and only friend, and began to twiddle her thumbs as she waited for Daisy's response. 

Daisy mulled over this for a few seconds, rubbing her beak in contemplation. True, most gods knew automatically about whatever they ruled over – Daisy knew everything and anything about seeds and trees, but she had assumed Aphrodite had only been given the title goddess of love due to her beauty. “Aphrodite, do you know what a scroll is?”

Aphrodite shook her head. “No.” It seemed to bother her that she didn’t know it, frowning.

“Do you know what a date is?”

Instantly Aphrodite was full of wonderment and excitement, hands clapping twice as she babbled on. “That’s when two people want to test their love by going out into the world and spending time together! That way they can see if they want to spend even more time together!”

“What’s a dog?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s a love letter?”

“That’s when a person expresses their heartfelt emotions through writing! Sometimes it’s a secret! They write it out on a…” She then paused, eyes moving left to right, as something clicked together in her mind. “Oh, they write it on a scroll, don’t they?” She even mimicked the action, looking at Daisy for approval.

Daisy nodded but her mind was elsewhere. Though the gods had definitely idolized her beauty too much, they had gotten one aspect of it right. For one reason or another, Aphrodite knew everything about love, and as long as something was connected to love, she would know that too. It was bizarre, but Daisy couldn’t help but find some amusement in it. She chuckled, a few petals falling off of her hair. “You’re a little weird, you know that, right?”

Aphrodite blinked. “What’s ‘weird’?”

“…What’s a honeymoon?”

“Oh! That’s when the married couple decide to continue celebrating their newfound unity…” And on and on Aphrodite rambled with Daisy visibly holding back laughter. At least she was eager about the subject which people would pray to her over. She could think of a few gods who loathed their duty, and theirs tended to be a miserable existence. But Aphrodite was in love with love.

When night finally fell, Daisy lamented she had to return home before her mother threw a fit. Aphrodite asked why she didn’t live on Mount Olympus, and Daisy’s face momentarily turned dark, her eyes cast away. “It’s not exactly a welcoming place for me and my husband, like it was during your party.” She said quietly, rubbing her arm. “Some of us aren’t allowed to stay there...and others choose not to stay at all.” Her voice was bitter, harsher than her first moments of sarcasm when she met Aphrodite. The mouse could understand not wanting to stay there, given the boredom she felt, but she didn’t know why there was such acidity in Daisy’s voice. There was history, but Aphrodite could see this wasn’t hers to discover yet. Instead, she tried to make the situation happy.

“Well, before we go, I chose a name.” She smiled, rocking back and forth on her bare feet in anticipation.

It did the trick and Daisy looked back at her with a relaxed expression. “What is it?”

“Everyone in the party commented on how small I was. So I thought I’d go with Minnie. Like 'mini'? Is that all right? Do you like it?”

Daisy smiled as well, a flower blossoming on her shoulder, one that Minnie had yet to learn the name for. “I like it. It suits you. Come see me again, okay? It’s embarrassing to have a high ranked goddess know so little.” Yet even as she said such a thing, her face was soft, speaking to her real friend. Daisy had tried not to make her into one, yet there Minnie was, taking a piece of Daisy's heart without meaning to.

They hugged each other, and Minnie was very happy to have such an extended vocabulary because of this fun girl. She liked Daisy very much. As she made her way back to Olympus, she figured out why – Daisy had simply been _real_ with her. She said what she honestly thought of Minnie – that name was growing on her more and more with every minute – and even expressed negative emotions to her. It had been a thrill.

~*~

Here she was in Olympus again, and every god and goddess that noticed her stopped what they were doing in order to gawk. Slack jaws, wide eyes, throats swallowing, she had become used to the looks and noises. Those that could speak praised her, but did not speak to her.   
“Hail, Goddess Aphrodite!”  
“The sun shines on the beauty of Aphrodite!”  
“I can die, now that those eyes have gazed upon me!”

 _Blah blah blah_ – that had been another thing Daisy had taught her, and Minnie giggled as she remembered. She almost thought about telling the passersby her chosen name, but then decided against it. If they hadn’t bothered to tell her such a thing existed, why bother sharing it with them? She found her throne, once again adorned in extravagant gifts, and brushed them off to sit down. Gods and goddesses didn’t need to eat, but Minnie enjoyed the act of eating. It had been another way of learning. She picked up a fresh batch of purple round things – she’d have to ask Daisy what they were next time - and popped one into her mouth. It was juicy and sweet, and Minnie enjoyed them. 

“Sooo, someone’s been around my temple!” a loud voice rumbled above her, as Minnie had been ready to eat another purple circle. She knew that voice well – this had been one of her constant visitors during the party.

Ares, the god of war, was bigger than her in every sense of the word. Now only did he tower above her as his temple had, his girth said he had probably eaten more of the purple rounds than the world had to offer. It was difficult to tell he was a feline, given that his hot red helmet hid his ears, and most of his body was the same way – covered in shiny red and gold armor as if he was expected to fight in the next second. But you could see his face well enough, as his yellow eyes bore down on Minnie. 

“I guess I did,” Minnie answered, rolling a purple round in her fingers. 

Ares laughed at that, banging his fist against the plate on his chest, and so made himself even louder. “That’s a good eye you got there! Makin’ sure you done seen the best temple for the best god around! It’s a real amazin’ temple, ain’t it?”

“Well,” Minnie tried to be honest, moving around so she was sitting upright and politely, “I only saw it because Daisy…Persephone was showing me around.”

Ares seemed to ignore certain parts of that sentence. “Persephone! She’s up and around?” He rubbed his hand under his chin full of stubble. “Guess it ain’t time yet for that husband of hers ta drag her back down below…Ya might wanna stay clear of her, or a pretty thing like yerself might get kidnapped!”

Minnie’s brows knit together. “She didn’t mention anything like that.”

“Well, who would?” Pete found this funny, making his loud, banging laugh again. “Havin’ ta hitch up with the god of death, that’s probably worse than death! Get it? HAR HAR HAR HAR!”

Minnie didn’t laugh, and instead popped several round purples into her mouth in order to have an excuse. She didn’t like this lesson. She didn't like Ares. “I like her. She’s my friend.”

“Aw, now don’t go poutin’ like that… Course, even when yer poutin’ yer the prettiest thing around!” He slipped an arm around Minnie’s shoulders and his armor was cold. She shivered. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya. We gotta take care of our new goddess. Hey, let’s have another round for the most beautiful gal in the realm!” He raised a fist to his passing brethren, and they cheered for Pete’s enthusiasm. “You just sit tight and I’ll go getcha a good drink, gorgeous!” He squeezed her tightly in a one-armed hug that smelled of blood, before bounding off.

“I don’t want…” But it was useless, and she knew it. With a loud sigh, she declined to eat any further. She eased back into her seat as another party began to start up, thanks to Ares. Those that noticed she had started to nap praised that even asleep and curled up, she was as beautiful as ever.

“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”  
“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”  
“All hail Goddess Aphrodite!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted! Chapter's late because it thought my fanfic was spam. RUUUUDE.
> 
> You might recognize some of the mermaids names as Ariel's sisters! As for the nereids, I just picked out pretty Greek names I liked.

There were many things that separated gods from mortals, such as not needing to eat or sleep. But for Hephaestus, even though he was not a mortal, he still had several of their weaknesses. This was why early that day he was groggily getting up from bed, rubbing the morning dust out of his eyes with an irritable grunt. He envied those gods that didn't need to sleep and could spend all hours doing what they pleased - although on the extremely long list of things he envied other gods for, this was fairly low. Once his vision was straight, he sat up in his creaky, tattered bed and reached for the walking stick that rested on his metal bed frame.

Hephaestus was an inventor, perhaps lightyears ahead of his time. The mortal world wouldn't conceive his smallest creations for decades to come, but he never shared his gifts with mortals. He once heard of a god who dared to share fire with them and supposedly that hadn't gone over well with Zeus. It was well enough, he figured, since they would take one look at his body and not expect great things of him anyway. Just like Hera.

With the walking stick firmly under his left armpit, Hephaestus hobbled out of his bedroom, his left leg dragging along on the hard floor. He was instantly met with familiar smells and sounds, the dozens of caves in his hefty volcano filled with work. It put his mind at ease, happy to hear his workers doing exactly what they were meant to do. None could ask for a sweeter lullaby than the carving of metal and stone from cave walls, carrying his supplies to and fro, while the smell of sulfur and lava permeated the air. This was home, but the truth was he was the only living soul inside.

“Good-Morning-Morning-Morning, Master-Mickey.”

Mickey was his chosen name, taken from sounds he heard in the caves. The mic-mic-mic of tiny pebbles falling from chipped rocks, the key-key-key from hot metal hissing as it met cool water, these were his favorite noises to hear and so he'd decided to name himself in such a way. Upon being addressed, Mickey glanced up at one of his dozens of mechanical servants, all of them named Axelia. Human by design, they all had the color of purest gold, save for the tiny silver screws keeping them together. They clicked and whirred with every step, and while Mickey supposed he could have worked on a way to make them quieter, he liked the reminder that he had made them.

“Good mornin',” he replied after a stretched yawn. “How's the copper collection comin' along?”

“We-We-We-Are-Currently-At-78%.”

“That's good. Very good.” Mickey closed his eyes, mulling this over, but he knew if he stayed like that for too long, he'd fall right back asleep. He needed strength to get through the hours and breakfast was the most important meal of the day. “Y'know, I feel like havin' fish today. Get the basket and a few empty scrolls. The girls probably have a million ideas already.”

“Yes Master-Mickey-Mickey-Mickey.”

As this Axelia prepared what she'd been ordered, Mickey headed for the cave's entrance. As he passed along the other chambers, filled with exactly similar servants who didn't stop to wish him well, he tried to keep his spirits up. There was no reason today had to be a bad day – although there was no reason it had to be a good one either. There were times he couldn't even tell a whole day had passed, as he shut himself up in the caves to work on his latest creations. Morning had been a lucky guess, and he squinted from the harsh sunlight once he stepped out. Now that he had real light instead of the dozens of candles that lined his cave, he could see that his normally black fur was tinted brown due to specks of rust and grime. He contemplated going back inside and taking a bath, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. The girls didn't care how he smelled, and his own personal hygiene rarely mattered to him. He walked on.

The volcano sat quietly along an ocean shoreline, on an island that no mortal had yet to discover. Dozens of sharp rocks along the coast prevented sailors from getting too close, along with the occasional whirlpool and unfriendly shark. Mickey had often wondered if Hera planned to throw him in this exact spot so that no one would find him, but then he'd have to remember her rage and her tears and her screaming and he didn't want to focus on that memory. Besides, he liked his island just the way it was. He had plenty of food from the small forest nearby, and all the peace and quiet anybody could ask for. He told himself this every day – _I don't need nobody and nobody needs me._

Axelia walked out shortly behind him, carrying a wicker basket that held several empty scrolls and one jar of ink. Walking around the rocks was easy for her because she couldn't feel pain. Mickey visibly winced here and there was some particularly jagged stones scratched his skin, but as long as he didn't bleed, he didn't stop. His robe had once been white, but now was as grimy and gross as his fur and he only washed it when he started to feel ill. He'd outgrown it by now, and there were rips and tears here and there, but he never saw the point of getting anything else. It did its job, as far as he was concerned – he was covered from knees to shoulder. Well, one shoulder at this point. Only his sandals were kept to pristine perfection, inspected every day to see if they needed to be fixed.

Mickey found his usual spot on the shore, sitting atop a flat brown rock that allowed his feet to dangle near the water. He sat down, placed his stick aside, and once Axelia had caught up to him, stuck two fingers in his mouth to whistle. All he had to do now was wait.

One minute passed, then two – but before minute three, bubbles began to form at the water's surface. Mickey braced himself as the splash happened, splattering him with cold ocean water, but he smiled – his unusual friends didn't know how to make an entrance otherwise. Dozens of pretty heads poked out of the water, with shrilling cries of his name and giddy clapping in the air. “Mickeymickeymickeymickeeeeey!” They clamored back and forth, his own audience of airheads.

Nothing lived on the island save for Mickey, but this particular point in the ocean was filled with mermaids and nereids. While mermaids were famous for their half human-half fish appearance, nereids could have been mistaken for your average mortal were it not for the red coral they wore around their heads and the gills on their necks. But they were equally flighty and flirty, gorgeous from head to toe and the only family Mickey had ever known until he built himself one. They tugged on his robes and his legs, each one wanting attention, but Mickey casually pushed them away.

“All right, ladies, you know the deal,” he ordered gently with a wag of his finger. “Get me some good eatin', and I'll get to work on your next request.”

Mickey received a choir of giggles and excited squeals. “I want a tiara!” “Earrings!” “I need a matching necklace!” “I want anklets!” “You're a mermaid, you don't even have ankles!”

“Fish first, you ninnies.” Mickey flicked a finger to the forehead of the nearest girl, making her whine for half a second before she plunged downward. Others copied the action while many still shouted out what jewelry they wanted on his next visit. Axelia placed the basket down, and held up an empty scroll, using her finger to dip into the ink and begin writing. Within seconds, fresh fish were tossed into the basket, more than enough to keep him fed for many days.

Mickey grabbed a silvery fish and bit into it, chewing casually as he heard each girl give their request. It was business as usual, and once they ran out of things to demand from him, they dissolved into idle gossip. On occasion, a very young girl would rest her head in his lap, and he'd stroke her tangled hair with the affection any father would give a daughter. He supposed that was ironic, as they were the ones who raised him instead of the other way around. Yet he couldn't exactly call them mothers either.

“Ooh, ooh, you won't believe this!” One mermaid – Aquata – splashed the water with her hands. “Poseidon says that the new goddess got her own throne and everything!”

“All gods and goddesses get thrones, dummy!” A nereid - Calista – Mickey had memorized each and every single name, able to identify them by only hearing a single vowel from their primped lips – blew a raspberry after saying so.

“I'm not a dummy! You're the dummy! Mickey's a god and he doesn't get one! And Aphrodite got a really pretty throne!”

“You're the dummy!” Calista began to tug on Aquata's hair, pulling out bits of seaweed.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Mickey grabbed his walking stick and tried to pry the squabbling sirens apart. “None of that. Good girls don't get gifts, remember?”

“I'm a good girl!” Aquata and Calista sing-sang together, which in turn got the others to compete and play. “I'm the best girl!” “I'm the prettiest girl!” “I can do a flip in the air!” “I can swim backwards with my eyes closed!”

Mickey nodded along, quietly amused and resumed his meal. The girls were nice enough, but often couldn't hold a thought together for more than a minute. It wasn't their fault, it was just what they were, and Mickey didn't hold it against them. At times, they were his only link to the outside world and the only way he could learn about things off the island. Speaking of which, for all their petty banter something had caught his attention. “Who's Aphrodite?”

Andria the mermaid took this up as she placed a green fish in the pile. “She's the newest goddess. She's all about beauty and love, and she's very pretty, and everyone loves her.”

Mickey blinked, but he supposed he'd heard of stranger things to rule over. He wiped a scale off of his lips. “All right, and where did she come from?”

“I don't know.”

He should have expected that, and rolled his eyes. “Okay, who does know where she came from?” Now he expected at least one decent answer, but more “I don't know”s followed, one after the other, accompanied by shrugs and asking each other even if they already answered. He began to get annoyed, though he reminded himself that these girls didn't mean to be this way. “Come on, someone has to know! Goddesses don't just appear out of nowhere!” All living things had to be born, and while some gods and goddesses had strange ways of entering the world, they still came from somewhere.

Rydia was the eldest of the nereids, and the most knowledgeable – although, at times, that just meant she could just remember the topic of conversation for more than five minutes. “I was there, Mickey! I was in the water, and this gigantic, big, huge, massive pink seashell washed up on shore. And it opened, and there she was, and then they took her to Mount Olympus.” She mimicked the shell opening, and the girls tried to find other words to use for “big” since it seemed like fun.

But Mickey didn't find it fun, his eyes widening in disbelief. “That's _it_?” He asked, his hands beginning to shake. It couldn't be that simple for Aphrodite, that easy, and yet the sea creatures didn't lie because they didn't see the purpose of it. “She just pops out of nowhere, and they give her a title, and a throne, and...” He trailed off, his fingers curling up so tight into his palms that he felt his broken fingernails stab into his skin.

_I don't need nobody and nobody needs me.  
I don't need nobody and nobody needs me.  
I don't need nobody and nobody needs me._

Mickey repeated the mantra over and over in his head in a desperate attempt to calm down, but his teeth were grinding and his eyes began to sting. All Aphrodite had to do was _show up_ and she was loved by everyone? He was the son of Zeus and Hera, and he – and he – and then he was back in the past as a mewling babe, hearing his mother's first words - 

_“This is my child?! This – this weak, scrawny, ugly thing? You were supposed to make everything right! You were supposed to be my champion! I can't use you! I don't need you!”_

And he didn't understand, how could he understand, and she grabbed his leg and it hurt and he screamed and she screamed and he was plummeting and he wanted to know what did he do, why was this his fault - 

“Mickey! You're crying!”

Indeed he was. Mickey breathed heavily, touching his now wet cheeks. The girls fluttered around him, trying to find his injury because they couldn't understand wounds that scarred the heart. They asked him what was wrong, tried to pet and kiss him, but Mickey wouldn't have any of it. “Must be nice,” he growled deep from his throat, snatching up his walking stick and trying to stand up, shoving off the girl in his lap. “Must be nice for everyone to like you right away, and not have to do a darn thing. Must be nice to get everything you want just by lookin' nice! Must be nice! Must be really nice!”

They called after him, still confused and bewildered, but they'd forget his woes soon enough. Axelia picked up the basket and followed him. She wasn't made to ask questions. Mickey's chest heaved as he made his way through the maze of sharp pricks, trying to remember his mantra while cleaning his embarrassing face. But his grief offset his balance, and he fell on the ground, his twisted leg throbbing in pain. Axelia stood perfectly still. She wasn't supposed to help him up. She wasn't supposed to give him pity. Mickey had made that clear on the day he first made his servants.

Deep down Mickey knew it was wrong to hate someone he'd never met before. But as he lay there, trying not to cry, his envy continued to flow like a festering wound. He choked, “I d-don't need nobody... and n-nobody needs me.”

Only one part of that was true.

~*~

Of course Minnie had no idea how much Mickey was suffering, as there were a great many things Minnie had yet to learn. As much as she wanted to return to the mortal plane and see Daisy, she decided that perhaps she hadn't been fair to the gods she knew on Mount Olympus. Maybe if she tried hard enough, they could teach her things – if she could get them to shut up about her beauty for a couple of seconds.

Mount Olympus had thousands of rooms for its eternal dwellers and their guests. They were constantly changing to suit the needs and wants of those who occupied it, and so you could often tell who was inside within a single glance. That's how she knew from a gigantic room that was fitted with spears and shields and smelled of sweat that this probably belonged to Ares, god of war. He was the one that hung around her the most, although it was more fair to say that he was the one who hogged up most of her time and attacked anyone who got near. Sure, he was a brute, but maybe if she came to him instead of him coming to her, he'd ease up on... everything he did ever.

Ares was rubbing his stubbly chin, focusing on an odd mirror that didn't cast his reflection. The framework was made out of swords and hilts, and the glass showed a mortal farmer happily waving to his neighbor and wishing him well. Ares grunted, somehow displeased by this display of camaraderie. He snapped his fingers, and now the image changed to a pair of mortal sailors docking on new land. They were embraced by the natives with open arms. He groaned, and tried one more time, snapping again. Two mortal kings were working on a peace treaty, and shook hands after signing. “Aw, come on!” Ares roared, slamming a fist into the wall.

Despite having every reason not to do this, Minnie delicately called out, “Ares? Is everything all right?”

Ares quickly spun around, his helmet almost falling off. “Why, if it ain't Aphrodite! Comin' down to see me? Of course everything's all right! Everything's always all right when you're around!” As he approached her, he tried to tickle her chin, and Minnie leaned back.

“Well, if I may say so, you seemed a little upset about something.” Minnie tried to poke in the direction of the mirror that wasn't a mirror. “What is that?”

“Aw, it's nothin' you need to worry your pretty little head about!” Ares slammed an arm around Minnie's shoulders, and if he hadn't grabbed onto her in the same action she would have fallen over. “Awful sweet of you to think about me!”

“I would really like to know what that is,” Minnie tried again, constantly poking the air. She had to be patient, had to persevere but there was something nagging in the back of her head that was beginning to get hot. “Please.”

“She's even lovely when she's begging!” Ares squeezed her in close, rubbing her arm over and over. “Ain't you somethin'!”

The hot feeling got warmer and warmer. Minnie didn't know yet that this was called 'losing your cool', 'raising one's ire', or as Daisy would later tell her, 'getting really pissed off.' “Ares. Would you _please_ tell me _what that is_?” Maybe she could have gotten an answer faster if she batted her eyelashes or stroked him in turn, but not only did that risk the chance of him getting distracted even further, she also knew that she shouldn't have to do that just to get a single answer. Minnie was a newborn and understood this quite clearly. As one of the oldest gods around, why didn't Ares?

Ares smiled down at her with big yellow teeth, eyebrows wiggling. “You know, you can call me by my chosen name. It's Pete! Nabbed it after a mortal who killed a hundred soldiers in a single battle. Can you believe it? One hundred! You can't get good wars like that anymore. It's a real shame.” With a heavy sigh, he pulled away, lamenting his woes while Minnie's fingers twitched. “Everywhere I look, there's peace, peace, and more peace! No one feels like having a good, bloody battle anymore!”

Minnie blinked slowly, trying to process why Ares – Pete – sounded so distraught over the best situation possible. “Isn't... that... a good thing?”

“Aw, don't worry about that big cry-baby.” From 'next door', a grape was tossed and it bounced off Pete's helmet. Minnie recognized this lazy party-goer from her gaggle of worshippers, constantly drinking and eyeing her in disgusting ways. A lanky rat, he was only a head shorter than Pete yet on his own he seemed tall enough to cast a shadow over anyone he spoke to. His imperial white robes were laced with green grape vines, dropping the fruit all over the floor wherever he walked. His hand always held a goblet of wine that never seemed to empty. This was Dionysus, god of wine, parties, and getting sloshed. “He's always whining whenever there isn't a war going on. He gets bored way too easily.”

Minnie scooted over to Dionysus, hoping maybe she'd finally get a decent answer. “Dionysus, right? Do you know what that is?” she asked, pointing again to the mirror, trying to fight off the heat in her brain. “I really would like to know, so, if you could, pretty please...?”

“Please, babe, call me Mortimer!” He took her hand, leaving a wet and purple stained kiss on her fur. “Got it after a really good bottle of wine back home.” A pause, his eyes rolling about. “Or maybe it was the guy who made the wine. Or something like that. Whatever. Point is, I'm choosing you to know my chosen name!” Mortimer seemed to find this hilarious, slapping Minnie on the back as his drink spilled onto the floor. “Makes us closer!”

“You closer?” Pete snarled, stomping over and using his large stomach to push Mortimer away. “I gave her my chosen name first! We're closer than anyone else! The gal clearly likes me way more than she likes you!”

“Girls don't like war,” Mortimer scoffed, popping a grape into his mouth. “Girls like parties. Ergo, girls like me, which means Aphrodite digs me way more than she digs you. Why don't you go back to your Viewing Mirror and watch grass grow?”

“Viewing Mirror?” Minnie piped up, waving her hands around so they could focus. “Is that what it's called? So you use it to watch mortals? Can I do that? How do I do that?”

“Girls like war plenty!” Pete towered over Mortimer, trying to intimidate him by size alone. “Ain't you ever heard of the Amazons? Just you wait, when the next war pops up, me and Aphrodite are gunna watch it together!”

Mortimer pushed his large honker of a nose into Pete's face, ready to give as good as he got. “She's the goddess of beauty, there's nothing beautiful about war. Now parties, parties are beautiful! Next one we throw, Aphrodite and I will dance all night long!”

Minnie absolutely did not want to do either of those things with either of these men, but just as she was about to tell them this, she felt a soft hand on her shoulders, turning her away from the shouting match. A male duck with golden curls of hair, his blue and green uniform was fit to perfection, with a four-leaf-clover sticking out of his left breast pocket. “I don't think you'll get anything out of them except for a headache, my dear girl.” Apollo, if Minnie recalled correctly, god of archery, poetry, and annoyingly good luck.

Minnie supposed he was right, and nodded as he led her away. Had she finally found someone willing to help her? “I guess so. I think they like hearing themselves talk more than they like actually having a conversation.” She missed having actual conversations like she did with Daisy, with equal take and give. “Do you know what a Viewing Mirror is?”

“Why Aphrodite, I know everything about anything.” Apollo kept his arm around her shoulders, and it was then Minnie realized he never looked actually at her. “Ask me anything, and I already know the answer. And if somehow I don't know the answer, it'll come to me anyway. When it comes to me, things always end in my favor.”

“But... But I _did_ ask you something.”

“For example!” Apollo took a deep breath, puffing out his chest. “My chosen name, Gladstone! Did you know there actually is no stone named Gladstone? Stones can't be glad. Stones can't feel anything! Isn't that fascinating? Then why did I choose the name, you ask? Well, it's a long, elaborate story that's going to require several hours of your time-” Gladstone paused, Minnie's fur feeling airy – mostly because he was no longer feeling her fur. Minnie had given up, storming off and feeling that hot sensation in her head again. “What's wrong?” he called after her. “Need to do your make-up?”

The goddess whipped around, her dress beginning to curl up around her feet. “I am going to see Persephone!” she snapped, and by this time Pete and Mortimer had also noticed the prize of their affections had gone missing and jogged to catch up. She was quite fine declaring her intentions to all of them, if they were finally going to listen to what she had to say. “If none of you are going to answer my questions, she will!”

The three blanched, with Gladstone asking the important question. “Why in the world would you want to see her?”

“I just _told you why!_ ” The hot feeling shot out of Minnie's mouth, making her scream – had she ever screamed before? Is this what people did when they were faced with constant aggravation? Was a simple question and answer routine too much to ask for? Was this going to be her life forever? She'd never felt this way before, and she didn't want to feel it again. It hurt her head, and made her face feel like it was on fire, blood pumping throughout her body, her limbs shaking with a fury unheard of, and then - 

And then the floor shook. Let it be stated again that Mount Olympus was in a place that time and space couldn't touch, and while it was a mountain in shape it was not like the mountains on the mortal world. Therefore it had no reason or logic to why it could shake. It lasted for three seconds, but it was enough to silence everyone on the mountain, with some thinking it'd been their imagination. Minnie, of course, didn't realize how bizarre this was, but as she saw the wild confusion on the faces of her three suitors, she began to settle down. What was wrong now?

“I'm not that drunk yet, right?” Mortimer eventually asked, checking his goblet to see how much he had in the past couple of minutes.

Gladstone made the choice to defeat the problem by pretending it never happened at all. “Like...Like I was saying!” he cleared his throat, taking out his four-leaf-clover and rubbing it in his fingers as if it would make sure the shaking would never happen again. “You don't want to see Persephone. If Hades sees you with her, he could kidnap you too! We wouldn't want that.”

Pete slammed a fist into an open palm. “If he pulls that trick again, I'd make him wish he could die!”

Well, if they were going to tell her things, she may as well stick to it. Minnie breathed through her nose slowly. “Who is Hades?”

“Oooh, the worst, he is the worst!” Mortimer waved his hand about, splashing Pete with wine but missing Gladstone by mere inches. “Lord of the Underworld, land of the dead! He's the one who kills mortals and takes away their souls! Real creepy stuff, babe. He's not allowed up here, thank goodness. Luck of the draw and all that.”

“I'll say!” Gladstone agreed for once, nodding in tune with Mortimer's wine splashing so he could keep avoiding it. “And I know all there is to know about luck. But Persephone, was she ever unlucky! Hades kidnapped her to be his bride! Can't think of a worse fate for any lady. Because of him, she's stuck in that gloomy, depressing place for half a year! If I were her, I wouldn't know how to get out of bed in the morning.”

“But don't you worry about a thing, Aphrodite!” Pete put his hands on his hips, standing tall and proud, jutting out his chin. “As long as I'm around, Hades won't lay a finger on you! You'll only have to feel my fingers.” He grinned, hoping she'd catch his drift, unaware one would have to be as dull as an unlit candle to have missed the implication.

Minnie was not as dull as an unlit candle, and in that second she decided she had enough company for one day. “Ummm. This has been. Nice. I guess.” With as much speed as she could muster, she willed the clouds beneath her to separate. “But I really must get going so I'll see you later, bye!” She smashed her words together, not caring if anyone could even hear her at that point, and jumped down to the mortal world below.

The trio of men watched her go, and then preened to themselves. “Poor girl must be shy,” Gladstone mused, chuckling at what he'd seen as a demure act. “I do hope I didn't frighten her off with my advice. Girls are fragile, you know.”

“When I see her again, I'll calm her down with a cool drink,” Mortimer said before gulping down a hefty amount of wine, letting his mind get dizzy. “Say, why don't we throw another party for her? I bet she'd love it! I'll go tell everyone we're ready for another round! All hail Aphrodite!”

Gladstone followed Mortimer, happily chanting the same ridiculous words, but for once Pete didn't follow. As much as he wanted to bask in Aphrodite's beauty, there was still the problem of peace waiting for him. It didn't weaken his powers, or honestly affect him in any physical way. But Pete enjoyed war, and he believed he would've even if he wasn't the god of war. It was fun to see men and women tearing each other to pieces over anything, be it other people, land or even just a disagreement. But peace...peace was _boring!_ Mortals were only good for entertainment, and if they couldn't even do that right, why should they live?

But he knew as he sat down on his throne that this was unfortunately the nature of things. Wars couldn't last forever, just as mortals couldn't last forever. No matter how enjoyable a bloody feud was, eventually one side would win and they'd move on. There was no such thing as a war that lasted forever. He tapped his fingers as he looked at his Viewing Mirror, having to settle for a bunch of grade school boys bullying a smaller child.

What he wouldn't give for a war that lasted until the end of time!

~*~

The boys would eventually gang up on the smaller child, calling him names and giving him a black eye for the mere sin of being poor and tiny. But as the little boy made his way home, debating if he should bother his beloved mother with his problems, he found a ripe peach being placed in his hands. He looked up, and saw a tall black dog that would've been taller if he stood up straight instead of slouching. The boy knew him right away, as did everyone in town. “Thank you, Pugma...Pigmoo...Pygma...”

“Aw, shoot, Goofy's just fine.” No one really called him his birth name anymore, and Goofy wore his supposed insult like a medal of honor. He was carrying a crate of peaches and had set it down to hand over a spare. “Looked like you could use a pick-me-up!”

The boy smiled in appreciation, but his eyes drifted to the crate. “Where are you going with all those peaches? You don't use them in sculptures, do you?”

Goofy laughed at such a ridiculous notion, bending over to pick up the crate. “Naw! Art doesn't starve! Starving artists is a whole other matter. This here's for that new goddess that they built the temple for. Figured I'd go and give her a welcome offering.” The town soothsayer had declared that a goddess of love and beauty had joined Mount Olympus, and what was a soothsayer for if not to declare such important things? Goofy always automatically believed these things, and so he'd been one of the few able hands who built the small, modest temple near the edge of town.

Being a new goddess, Minnie had no claims to fame and no stories to tell about her except that she was pretty. As such, not many bothered to pray to her or give her any offerings since they didn't know what she'd help them with. But it'd disrespectful not to build her _something_ , and so the marble temple stood, empty on the inside save for a single altar. Goofy would be the first person to give her an offering, but truth be told, he had nothing he wanted. _Nothing_ , he thought, _any god could grant, anyway._

He hummed a pleasant tune as he carried the peaches to the temple, tripping over his own loose sandals and making them spill all over the ground. He hummed as he brushed himself down, hummed as he picked up the bruised peaches, and hummed as the villagers laughed and mocked his clumsiness. It was what he was used to, and if nothing ever changes, why bother to complain? He had more important things on his mind.

Goofy made it to the temple, and began stacking the peaches on the solitary altar. No, he didn't have a wish to make, but he did have a thought in mind. “Meetin' new folks, livin' in a new place, might be real scary,” he said out loud, wondering if she could hear him, and content if she couldn't. “But I bet you'll do just fine. I hope you'll be happy. Welcome to the world, Aphrodite.”

With a simple bow, Pygmalion went home to work on his favorite sculpture.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my editors Drucilla and BlueShifted.
> 
> Managed to pop one more out before vacation time! One of the hardest things about this story was what to do with the Pygmalion mythos. At first glance it seems sweet, but once you take a closer look it does get pretty creepy. So I wrestled for a while how to fix it - and only in the last month or so did it finally come to me. What will happen to Goofy and the statue? You'll have to wait to find out.
> 
> For those new to my stories or just need a refresher - Millie is a fanmade OC made between myself and my friend Ange.

Whenever Daisy was informing Minnie about the ways of the world, which had almost become a daily routine by this point, the love goddess always paid rapt attention. She wanted to memorize every single detail her first friend gave her and to no longer feel as though she were a pathetic infant. But as the two immortals strolled around a quaint village of cobblestone, Minnie found herself unusually distracted. Daisy was explaining the differences between demigods, regular gods, and “The Big Three” as she called them, but Minnie kept sucking in her cheek and smacking her lips.

“Demigods, like myself, have only half the power of a regular god,” Daisy said, having chosen to wear a sunflower in her hair. Like all the other times they had taken casual walks through mortal homes, the two were invisible to the common eye. In an earlier lesson, Daisy had proven this by plucking off one of the seeds from her sunflower and flicking it at an elderly man's cheek. He had paused, picked up the fallen seed, and decided that it must have fallen from the mouth of a bird flying overheard. “For example, I can't summon a Viewing Mirror and I can't influence the mind of any mortal. Now the Big Three, they're all powerful, but it comes at a cost. Like my husband-”

The longwinded explanation came to an abrupt halt when she heard Minnie's lips smack once again. She stopped in place, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms. One of the things that Minnie adored about Daisy was that she was never shy about how she felt, and right now she was obviously annoyed. “Do that one more time and I'll have you sit in a garden full of corpse flowers. Three guesses what they smell like and the first two don't count.”

Minnie hung her head like an ashamed child, twiddling her thumbs. “I'm sorry, Daisy. I just – I can't explain it...”

“Then ask. It's what I'm here for, apparently.” The two temporarily stopped where they were, and any mortals walking along the same path felt an inclination to walk around, perhaps thinking they wanted to avoid stepping in a puddle of mud.

“Oh, I do appreciate you teaching me so much! But – But sometimes I get worried I'm annoying you.” 

“You are,” Daisy replied calmly, her bluntness another odd but helpful stable of this friendship. “But I figure the sooner you learn everything you need to know, the sooner we can get to know the real you. Knowing something doesn't define you. It's what you do with the knowledge.” Plus it gave Daisy's ego an extra boost. After being treated like a fool and a damsel in distress by her mother and those superior snotty gods on Mount Olympus, having someone admire and look up to her was more than welcome. “I'll admit, you being so cute does cut the annoyance down by half.”

It was supposed to be a compliment, but Minnie frowned, still being adorable as her pouting exposed dimples in her cheeks. She hated to have her friendship watered down by her own beauty. “All right, but you'll think it's strange. I...I've just been having the strangest craving for peaches the last couple of days.” When she told Pete, Mortimer, and Gladstone this, she was hoping to get some kind of answer. Instead, she got armfuls of peaches, followed by the men throwing peaches at each other because each one believed they should have been the only one feeding her.

Daisy blinked slowly three times before getting an idea. “A craving like that might mean someone offered peaches at your temple...And you have a temple! Way to go!” In congratulations, she ruffled the top of Minnie's head, and was both amused and miffed to find that each delicate curl of fur simply bounced right back into place.

“I have a temple?” Minnie asked out loud, but in that same second she felt it was true. “I have a temple! Oh goody!” Having so very few things she could call her own, the idea filled her to the brim with excitement, especially because as Daisy had told her on day one, mortals built temples. “People actually worked on it and built it, with their own hands! They didn't have powers or anything! Daisy, I want to go see it, I want go see it!” She skipped in glee, frolicking ahead of Daisy.

“Okay, but don't expect much!” Daisy called after her, trying to catch up to Minnie's dancing. “You're a new goddess! You won't have any statues or paintings or wall carvings! Slow down, will you?” But no matter how hard she tried to put a lid on Minnie's happiness, it wouldn't simmer down. She wound up having to chase after her friend, stifling chuckles in her throat. If this was a glance at Minnie's real personality underneath all the questions, perhaps she was as cute on the inside as she was on the outside.

Minnie thought it was sheer coincidence that her temple was in the very same village they were visiting that day, but Daisy didn't believe in coincidences. When you lived as long as she had, it was easier to see that random happenings were part of fate's ultimate design. As the duck had tried to warn her beforehand, the temple was nothing to brag about. It was smaller than the average house, with red paint that had already begun to show signs of scratches. The entrance was a little lopsided, and inside was only one altar in the middle of a tiny room. But Minnie loved it, loved it, loved it to pieces, running her hands on the walls and twirling around to make sure she'd seen absolutely everything. This was hers, and hers alone. “It's beautiful!”

“If you say so,” Daisy winced as she stepped inside, a wretched stench hitting her nostrils. “Ugh...and I think we found your craving.” Placing a hand over her beak, she approached the altar where a crate with now rotten peaches sat. “Oh, for goodness sake! They're supposed to _burn_ the offering! That's how we get it! Whoever did this must be a few horses short of a full stable.”

Still, Minnie's mood wouldn't be beat, and she even hugged the crate, despite suffering from the same ghastly smell hitting her nose. “It's what they did with the knowledge, remember? And I think it's a wonderful gift...even if it is going to going to make me throw up in a few minutes.” Swallowing down an urge to gag, she now inspected the crate with loving care to find a name or an identifying feature. “I want to thank whoever did this!”

“Well, that is your right.” Daisy inched back towards the entrance, trying to waft away the smell with her hand. “If a god or goddess really likes what someone offered, they can reward the mortal who gave it. I've helped a few farmers with their crops after the nice stuff they gave me. All you have to do is concentrate, and you can find whoever left this here.” _And maybe give them a good smack upside the head_ , she mentally added.

“Yes, I'll concentrate! … Outside!”

Once the duo were out in fresh air, Minnie closed her eyes, concentrating long and hard about whoever it was that left her an offering. It was slightly more difficult than Daisy's blasé explanation, and she found she wasn't really sure what exactly she was supposed to be doing. In a fit of frustration, she wished whoever it was gave her some kind of sign.

“ _YAAAAAA-HA-HA-HOOOOIE!_ ”

Minnie hadn't quite meant it like that. As she and Daisy heard the holler, they tilted their heads in unison as a runaway wagon careened down the nearby hill, rolling over and over on anything but its own wheels. The horses that were supposed to be guiding it were on top of the hill, in no rush to after the lost cargo. Fruits and vegetables splattered off the wagon – including peaches, Minnie noticed – and the villagers stepped aside, many wearing an irked expression as if this was the sign of another Monday. The wagon only stopped when it crashed into a fence, but its rider kept on going, rolling on the ground until gravity and exhaustion made him plop face-first in front of the girls, half of a watermelon stuck on his head.

“Minnie, don't concentrate so hard next time.”

“Sorry.”

Whoever it was dizzily tried to sit up, tugging on the watermelon but finding it hard to remove. The villagers got to work cleaning up his mess, with their irritation obvious in every shout.

“Nice going, you big goof!”  
“You really put the pig in Pygmalion!”  
“Why don't you do us all a favor and not cause trouble for ONE day?!”

The rider didn't reply, still too focused on his entrapment, now even using his feet in an attempt to pry the fruit off of his face. Daisy didn't know who to feel more sorry for – this mystery oaf, or for Minnie that said oaf was her very first worshipper. Yet Minnie didn't sound disappointed, as she tugged on Daisy's arm and pleaded gently, “Okay, so, how do I make him see me?”

Daisy raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to 'meet' him? He seems kinda...”

“Welp,” said the mystery man, “May as well have a snack, long as I'm stuck.” Daisy felt the chewing noises that followed said more than she needed to.

“Yes, I'm very sure.” Minnie nodded once, holding her head with pride. “He did something very nice for me, and he didn't have to! All the gods on Mount Olympus fawn over me and give me things just because I look nice. But he's never even seen me before and he gave me a whole crate of peaches! And without breaking the crate, which...might be a very big deal for him.” Minnie had only known this man for roughly fifteen seconds and she was already overwhelmingly proud of him. Even though he had messed up, it was the thought that counted.

Daisy could see that Minnie wouldn't be persuaded otherwise. “Very well. But first? We don't tell him we're goddesses. That'll just cause a world of trouble.” She grasped Minnie's right hand, and Minnie felt warmth seeping into her skin. “Second, we can't look exactly like we already do. Might make a few of them go nuts, and that'll probably go double for the 'goddess of beauty'. So you have to think of how you want them to see you. I'll help you out, just this once.” Attaining a form that mortals could see required a lot of energy, and there was no way Daisy was letting the newborn goddess do this all her own.

As for the mortal man, now that he'd eaten his fill, the fruity cage on his head was easier to yank off. Now that he was free, the girls could see he was a dog, with long black ears dripping with red juice. His muzzle stuck out the same way his limbs did, a little too much to be considered handsome. His buck teeth didn't help any, and his slow blinking eyes didn't give any signs of great intelligence hiding behind them. He was pretty much what one expected when you hear someone being described as goofy. But one probably didn't expect them to keep it as a name. Goofy was full of surprises, not all of them pleasant, but it was his turn to be surprised today.

He lifted his head and saw two exceptionally pretty ladies standing directly in front of him. They wore matching dresses colored pink and green, with matching sandals and even matching hairstyles that stretched over the same shoulders. But they couldn't be called twins, as Daisy had chosen to make herself look like an older woman of refined dignity, perhaps the matriarch of a rich family. She had found that mortals tended to respect the elderly even if they were complete strangers. Minnie on the other hand, had decided to go as a young girl, nearly budding out of childhood, as she felt it was unfair to “lie” to her worshipper about how old she was, or at least how old she felt.

Goofy was very sure he'd never seen either one of them before in the village, but instead of regarding that with suspicion, he smiled pleasantly and offered both of his hands. “Well, hello there! You folks must be new in town.”

“Why yes, we are,” Minnie chirped, having no idea what to do with the hand in front of her. “I'm Minnie, and this is Daisy!” Was she allowed to give out their chosen names like that? She quickly glanced at Daisy for approval, but thankfully her elder quietly nodded and took Goofy's hand to shake. Minnie eagerly copied the action. How fun!

“I'm Pygmalion, but everyone 'round here calls me Goofy!” When his hands were free, he pushed himself to stand, towering over both of them but making sure not to use his full height. “Nice ta meetcha! I'm sure you'll like our town real nice. We got the world's first temple to that new goddess, Aphrodite!” He tugged on his robe with his thumbs, bits of lettuce tumbling off as he did so. “Why, I even helped build it!”

“Will wonders never cease,” Daisy mumbled under her breath.

“You did a wonderful job!” Minnie had to physically jump and grab Goofy's hand to shake it again, which she did with much more vigor this time around. “It's so beautiful! It's a perfect temple! I couldn't ask – I mean, Aphrodite couldn't ask for one better!”

“Aw, shucks. Weren't nothin',” Goofy blushed with full rich color, allowing Minnie to have his hand as much as pleased. With every shake he lowered his head lower. “Every god's gotta have a temple, right? Even mean ol' Hades!” He would have gone into the details of how the temple was truly a group effort had Daisy not given him a good smack upside the head.

“My hand slipped,” Daisy lied through bared teeth. “Apologies.”

Goofy blinked slowly, but seemed to actually believe this. “Shoot, that's all right! No worse than what I do most times.” Speaking of which, he finally looked to survey the damage he'd done. His shoulders sagged as he saw his neighbors lift the wagon back onto its wheels and lasso the horses back to their proper places. “Oops. I was just tryin' to make some deliveries on the side. Maybe I should help clean up.”

“What do you mean, on the side?” Minnie asked, giving his hand an extra long tug to distract him.

It worked, as Goofy whipped his head around, right as rain again. “Just to make some extra money! No one's been buyin' my art, so I gotta find some way to put food on the table. But I think today I might wind up eatin' the table.”

Daisy had to admit she was getting curious. “You make art?”

“Can we see?” Minnie had almost started to hug Goofy's arm, which he would have allowed, but Daisy grabbed her by the shoulders and finally yanked her off. “Please, I would love to see your art, mister Goofy!”

The dog's eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by such a request. His sad feelings about lost food and lost coin would have to wait. “Sure you can! My house is just a jump, skip, and a hop away! Oh boy, I ain't had visitors in a real long time.” With an extra bounce in his step, he walked along the stone pathway and the girls followed, trying to imagine what a man like this could make with his hands. They weren't very surprised to see his home resemble the temple – it was boringly average with scrapped paint, the windows and doors at odd angles. Daisy was afraid that if she sneezed too hard it would all come tumbling down. Minnie thought it was quaint.

“Home sweet home,” Goofy said, pushing open his wooden door that fell over onto the floor. He shrugged it off, and walked inside with a whistle. “Make yourselves comfy! Sorry about the mess. Can't prepare for what you don't expect, I suppose.”

In seconds Minnie would learn what a sculptor does, as the one floor home was decked in marble life. The floor was covered in broken bits of stone and dust, and a chipped shelf held rusty tools that had seen better days. Yet even Daisy was stunned because she, like everyone else in the village, hadn't expected anyone named Goofy to be good at carving statues.

“Oh, my! These are amazing!” Minnie exclaimed, and despite having an inexperienced worldview, she was absolutely right. These were amazing statues, because each one looked ready to spring to life. In one corner sat an elderly man reading bedtime stories to his dozing grandchildren. A mountain lion on the prowl took over a good portion of the floor. Collections of birds sitting on shy girls' shoulders lined up on a windowsill. Each masterpiece was filled with emotion and devotion, and the only thing to find displeasing about them was that they took up so much space that it was hard to move around.

“I don't believe this,” Daisy walked around a marble deer that was sniffing a fake flower. “I've seen statues in temples that don't look half as good! How do you do it?”

Goofy shrugged, unsure of how to answer what he thought was a fairly silly question. “I just do it. Been doin' this ever since I could hold a chisel in my hand. It's what makes me happy.”

Daisy had to bend in an awkward position in order not to knock off a young athlete throwing a sharp javelin. “And you're telling me nobody wants to buy these? Are they blind?”

As long as he was there, Goofy decided to get a bit of work done. He picked up his aging hammer and rusty chisel from his tool shelf, and began to add another layer to a princess' wedding cake. “Folks don't really believe a guy like me can make anythin' purdy-lookin'. Can't blame 'em, really.” He knelt down, wanting to make sure the strawberry that fell off the icing had the right number of leaves. “Folks see a sickly gardener, they might think his veggies ain't good. They see a weaver with shaky hands, they might think her baskets fall apart. Way of the world, I learned by now. People see what they see.”

“But that's not fair!” Daisy scoffed, her flippant hand almost knocking over a flock of hummingbirds. “People shouldn't judge you based on what they see!” Although she had to pause as she realized she had done the same thing mere moments ago. She lowered her hand, nervously twirling her hair around her finger. “And if they do, they should feel terrible about it.”

Goofy chuckled, thanking her kindly for her sympathy. But neither of them had yet to notice the missing third member of their party. A moment ago, as Minnie had been admiring the works around her, she'd noticed a room that instead of holding a door had a blue curtain serving as an entrance. Her inquisitive nature naturally led her towards the room, paying no mind to the conversation being held without her.

It was a bedroom, if Minnie had to fathom a guess based on the sole frayed excuse of a mattress lying on the floor covered by a blanket that in no way could cover the extremely long dog. Unlike the rest of the house, only one statue was in this room. But it was more brilliant and beautiful than all the others – perhaps more brilliant and beautiful than anything Minnie had ever seen in her short life.

A woman stood on a sandy beach, seashells decorated at her bare feet. She was a dainty poodle, with cut puffs of fur around her neck and wrists. Her dress had only one layer, yet it pooled around her as if it could go on for miles. Her eyes were closed, her chin down, and she smiled with peace and serenity. In her cupped hands lay a necklace, shabbily made with bits of broken seaglass and string, yet she held it as if was the most precious treasure on earth. Even those who could claim not to have an appreciation for such things could tell this was a statue made with purest, deepest love – and Minnie felt it within the depths of her very soul.

She reached out to touch the woman's dress, almost startled to feel marble instead of silk, and as she continued to gaze at the woman's blissful expression, tears filled Minnie's eyes. She could feel every second that Goofy had worked on this piece, every passionate chip, and it was indeed made with love – with a heart broken in untold agony. Minnie fell to her knees, unable to stop crying, as if Goofy's heartache was also hers.

By then the other two realized Minnie had gone, and when Daisy pushed aside the curtain to see her sobbing companion, she ran to throw her arms around the younger goddess. “Minnie!” She held her close, trying to see her face. “What is it? What's wrong?” Unable to form words at the time, Minnie wildly gestured at the statue. Daisy looked up – while she too thought it was far more gorgeous than anything she'd seen in the entrance, she didn't understand why it had sent Minnie into a fit. “It's a happy statue! Look at that face, she's smiling!” Worry gave way to anger, and she glared at Goofy since he was more or less responsible for this mess. “Help me out here, will you? What's this one supposed to be?”

Goofy was at a loss for words for several reasons. He had never intended for this particular statue to be seen by anyone else, and since he never had visitors, it had never occurred to him that a curtain wasn't exactly a way to ward someone off. He'd also never handled a sobbing girl since – since – hm. Well. Since _her_. “She's...She _was_...a girl I loved a long time ago.”

Was – that one word diffused Daisy's anger like throwing water on a candle. Married to the god of death, she knew more than anyone the power of “was”. All she could say in response was a diminutive “Oh.”

Goofy hadn't told anyone this story, so he wasn't sure how to go about it. He took his time walking towards the statue, his voice distant and pained. “Her name was Millicent. She liked 'Millie' better, though. Said she always thought the name was for a fancier girl, not for a sailor's daughter. She taught me all about nautical ropes, and always untied me when I got it wrong. We'd make sandcastles on the beach and make up constellations when the stars came out. She never made me feel dumb. Said I was just smart about different things. Millie always knew how to make me smile, and she always knew when I was sad. She was special, but she wanted to be with me anyway. I always thought she deserved better than the likes of me, but anytime I said so, she made me take it back. Said nobody deserved anybody. That hearts loved who they loved, no more, no less, and that her heart loved me.”

His fingers touched the necklace embedded into the statue, and while Minnie's cries had quieted down, he felt compelled to finish what it hurt to speak of. “Her Pa was always sailin' to other places, and when he had to go, so did she. Last time he did, he and Millie weren't sure when they'd be back. I thought long and hard...and then I made her a necklace. I knew it wasn't good, it's not like carvin'. But I told her how much I loved her, and that if she wore it when she came back home, I'd make her my wife.” How many years had it been since he'd stood on the port, waving her goodbye until her boat was a speck on the horizon? He'd long since lost count, or more accurately, had stopped counting when he learned of its fate.

“Sailors can prepare for the worst. But they ain't gods. They can't predict the weather perfectly. Nastiest storm on record...nothin' left but planks floatin' in the water. We had folks search all over the ocean, and that was all they could find.”

Goofy's cheeks were dry, perhaps unable to cry after years and years of howling over Millie's cruel fate. Daisy's cheeks were wet, yet despite her blurry vision she noticed a vital detail about the statue. “She's – she's not wearing the necklace.”

“Didn't think it'd be right.” His fingers slid off the marble, his hands hanging at his sides. “Didn't wanna make the choice for her.” Goofy looked down at the women, and then knelt down, tenderly petting Minnie between the ears. “Real sorry to make you hear that sob story. Last thing I ever wanna do is hurt someone. We can still make this day end on a good note, if'n you want. Always thought makin' a new friend was the best part of any day.” He pointed to his face, where despite all that had been said, a smile lay there with warmth and invitation. “You might not feel like you'll smile again, but you will.” A mantra he'd told himself thousands of times, no doubt.

Minnie didn't smile, but she did throw her arms around Goofy's neck for a tight hug. Daisy joined right after, and while Goofy was temporarily stunned, he embraced them both. “Ain't you ladies sweet as pie.” His stomach seemed to have no connection to his heart, as it began to growl at the mere mention of dessert. “Huh. Dinner for three...might be a little tricky.”

With that, Minnie pulled back, wiping her face. “Oh, no, we wouldn't dare intrude. You should feed yourself.”

“Anything we eat is going to taste salty at this rate,” Daisy added, pulling Minnie to her feet. “We should get going.”

Goofy was slightly disappointed to be deprived of company so soon, but he'd never impose. “If'n you say so. You two ever wanna come by, my door's always open! Or on the floor. Either way, you'll be welcome! And to make up for all that cryin', I'll make a special statue, just for Minnie here! It'll make you smile, that's a guarantee!” He jabbed a thumb to his chest, allowing himself to have a few handfuls of pride if it meant cheering someone up. “Whaddya want made?”

Minnie blinked with wet lashes. What did she want? That was a new one. She'd never been asked that before. The men on Mount Olympus assumed her wants and needs, and Daisy either gave Minnie a lesson in whatever she felt like teaching at that moment or waited for Minnie to ask something. No one had ever directly asked her what she wanted – so she said the first thing that came to mind. “Can you carve a peach?”

Such a bizarre answer made Goofy pause for half a second before bursting into charmed laughter, holding his belly with both hands. “A carved peach! Ain't ever thought of that one before! Why, I could carve you a whole peach tree, but just a single peach? Ain't you somethin'!”

Daisy smirked, glad to hear the sound of mirth again. “I think that means yes.”

Minnie was relieved she could give Goofy joy, her own was short lived as she concluded she was missing something very important. “Oh! Oh dear, I don't have any money on me!”

“Wouldn't take it even if ya did.” Goofy held up a hand, his fingers flat out. “I'd never charge a friend, and now we're all pals! You just come back in a little while, and I'll have the best carved peach anyone's ever seen! Gunna be a real beaut! Why, I'm gunna get started right this minute!” He paraded out of the room, whistling a merry tune.

Minnie watched the blue curtain flutter as he left, her tiny hands over her heart. “Mortals are amazing,” she said in a breathless whisper. “He can smile after losing the love of his life.”

“Well, mortals have to be made of stronger stuff than us,” Daisy agreed after snapping her fingers – their mortal disguises vanished, and they were invisible once more. “They can only live for a couple of decades, and lose people all the time. Takes a lot of work to kill a god. I don't think I'd want to live if someone I cared about died.” If something ever happened to her husband – nope, nope, nope, she wasn't even going to entertain that notion. “Okay, that's it, I've had enough of the blues. You know what always cheers my husband up? Sailing!”

Minnie gave Daisy a curt look and the duck realized once again she hadn't thought clearly. “Ah. Right. Maybe not today...but the beach is a close second! We'll think about what we can give Goofy as a reward.” She offered her hand.

“I don't think I could ever give him anything that would be enough,” Minnie lamented, her entire body sagging like a dying flower. She might have curled up on the floor and thought about Goofy's tragedy for millennia to come, but Daisy snatched Minnie's hand and forcibly teleported the two of them to the nearest beach – although without Minnie's immediate mental cooperation, they fell in the water instead of the sand.

Daisy popped her head out first, spitting and sputtering. “If I have to taste salt one more time today, I'm going to lose my mind! Tears are salty, this water's salty, I'm about to be salty!” Minnie's sudden giggling interrupted her ranting, making her temper flare even hotter. “What's so funny? You were crying a minute ago!”

“I'm not t-trying to laugh! S-something's tickling me!” Minnie shrieked, flailing her arms and kicking her legs. Daisy was about to tell her it was merely seaweed, when she too felt tickling fingers on her arms and legs. She tried to demand the assailant stop before she brought the wrath of a demigoddess upon them, but it wasn't really threatening when it was said before fits of high-pitched laughter.

It went on relentlessly until Minnie sunk underwater, being too tickled to keep herself afloat. The sensations suddenly stopped, and when Minnie swam back up, she saw their attackers. “Mermaids!” Daisy snapped, smashing the water with anger fists. “I should've known! You stupid things are always causing trouble!”

“I win!” the chubbier mermaid declared, oblivious to Daisy's fury as she spun in the water. “I win, I win, I win! Now you have to give it to me!”

“Awww, that's not faiiir!” the skinnier mermaid whined, her shoulders heaving up and down as she wailed. “Can we go for two out of three?”

“No, you can't!” Daisy knocked their heads together, making them squeak and roll their empty heads about. “Minnie, don't you ever try to go near these things. Mermaids are just a bunch of ditzes! If we were mortals, we might've drowned!”

“Well, maybe they knew we weren't mortal,” Minnie pointed out. If Goofy had taught them anything, it was clearly not to judge people by first glance. “What were you two doing? Was that some kind of game?”

The girls looked at Minnie and – as usual when people got a first look at her – they were awestruck by her beauty. With wide eyes and stopped hearts, they quickly forgot their squabble and began preening and playing with Minnie's hair and fur. “She's pretty!” “She's sooo pretty!” “Let's dress her up!” “Yes, yes, let's play dress up!”

Daisy rolled her eyes, tempted to give a very loud “I told you so”. But Minnie touched the girls by their shoulders, pushing them back. “She's right, you know. If we weren't goddesses, that little game of yours could have hurt someone! That's not very nice!” How else would they know if someone wasn't going to tell them?

To Daisy's surprise, the mermaids appeared to consider this, though not for the reasons she thought. They looked at each other, concern twisting their scaly features.

“Not very nice? That means not very good!”  
“Oh no, we're not good girls!”  
“Only good girls get gifts!”  
“I want to be a good girl!”  
“Me too, me too!”

Minnie smiled, feeling like the smarter one. It felt nice to teach someone else something, and she clapped her hands together. Daisy huffed, but tried to wait patiently as the lesson continued. “Now then,” Minnie instructed, trying to imitate Daisy's confidence. “If you want to be good, an apology works! Just say you're sorry and we'll forgive you.”

“I won't,” Daisy felt obligated to mutter.

“We're sorry!” the mermaids said together.

“Whoever got someone to sink won.”  
“And I won.”  
“And I have to give her this because I said she could have it if she won.” But as the skinnier mermaid began to take off her golden bracelet, she gasped with an idea. “But an apology with a gift, that's twice as good! I'll be an extra good girl!”  
“I'll be an extra good girl too!”  
“Maybe Mickey will give us extra gifts because we're extra good!”

As Minnie took the bracelet, noting its lovely features and how it perfectly glinted in the sunlight, she asked, “Who's Mickey?”

“Mickey's our friend.”  
“He's a god.”  
“He's the best god, after Poseidon.”  
“But Poseidon doesn't give us gifts for being good.”  
“So we like Mickey better.”  
“Mickey's the best!”

Minnie assumed she wasn't going to get too much detail from these girls, so she turned to Daisy, and asked the expert on everything. “Who's Mickey?” she asked again. If it was a god, Daisy had to know them.

But for the very first time since Minnie had met Daisy, Daisy didn't have an answer for her. Daisy herself seemed to be bewildered, her hands open and closing with confusion. She knew every single god on Mount Olympus, she knew who ruled over the dead and who ruled over the ocean, she knew the demigods like herself that had mortal parentage, she knew many centaurs and satyrs and favorite mortals, she knew what happened at the beginning of time and the cursed lineage of Zeus and his ancestors. 

“I...I've _never heard_ of a god named Mickey!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my wonderful editors Drucilla and Blueshifted!
> 
> We finally meet Hera (who, like Zeus, isn't based on any actual Disney character), along with Hermes and Hades! For those not in the know, Fethry is a comics-only duck, Donald's kooky cousin!
> 
> Also, for when Minnie finally lays eyes on the mystery man... I like to think an incredibly sappy love song is playing despite not having been recorded for several hundred centuries yet. What do you think it is?

An unknown god – Minnie couldn't ask for a more thrilling mystery! Daisy had declared they would meet up the next day, as she would travel to the Underworld and ask her husband what he knew. That left Minnie with only one fruitless option – asking the narcissistic souls upon Mount Olympus. Minnie had hoped at the very least that such a curious question would strike their interests and get them to actually tell her something besides how grand they were and how beautiful she was.

She had no such luck.

“Never heard of him,” Gladstone answered while looking at himself in a hand mirror and trying to pull on Minnie's hand so her vision would be captured in the reflective glass as well. “Don't we look absolutely amazing? It's like you were meant to stand right next to me. Maybe that's why you were born, to be with me! Am I lucky or what?”

“No idea,” Mortimer replied while lounging around on a soft couch and drinking heavily. “You know what the best thing is after a good drink? A good nap! And would you look at that, there's enough room for two.” He over exaggerated his yawn, stretching his arms out to show how much space there was as if that would entice Minnie to stay with him.

“Who cares?” Ares grunted, sitting on his throne of armor and shields and glaring hotly at his Viewing Mirror. “I still can't find a single decent war around! I have half a mind to go down there and stir things up. Say, why don't we make a date out of it?” He cupped his stubbly chin in one hand, grinning as the very thought cheered him up. “You, me, and a whole battalion of soldiers fighting for no real reason! How's that for a good time?”

Minnie looked from man to man, her shoulders slumped in disappointed disbelief. “Really? None of you are even the tiniest bit interested?” That was far more insulting than simply not knowing the answer. “This is brand new! This is exciting! We should try to find out who it is! We can all learn something together!” The very idea of it should have been appealing, yet they merely blinked at her before resuming their hobbies. “Doesn't it bother any of you that there's something you don't know?”

“Why should it?” Pete rested his arms behind his head, letting his gut flop onto his thighs. “I know all the important stuff, like how many swings of a sword it takes to decapitate someone. 'Sides, all the important gods are here on Mount Olympus. Anyone who lives down there with the mortals might as well be a mortal – they sure ain't as amazing as I am.”

“For once, Pete's right,” Mortimer rolled a grape down his shoulder before popping it into his palm. “The only reason anyone would want to go down there is for a quick party. Whoever this Mickey is, he's gotta be a real loser if he prefers mortals over us.”

If that's what made a loser, Minnie was starting to think she'd prefer being a loser to being a goddess. “So you're all just going to sit here and...and do nothing about this? Nothing at all?” How could they possibly think they were superior to mortals who worked for a living, when these lazybones only partied and fought?

“Awww, she's even beautiful when she's annoyed!” Gladstone cooed, twirling his finger into one of Minnie's curls while she rolled her eyes. “C'mere, let's take a good long look at our gorgeous selves, that'll get a smile back on those lovely lips!”

“Hey, don't bogart the babe!” Mortimer tossed a grape at Gladstone's head, missing it by an inch. “She'd much rather take it easy with me than gawk at you.”

“Don't you start that stupid stuff again!” Pete slammed his fist down on his armrest, breaking it momentarily. “She's my gal, and if she's gunna smile at anyone, it's gunna be me! Don't you forget it!”

As the usual argument began up, Minnie slowly rubbed her hands on her face. Was it just her, or were these silly fights getting quicker to start every time she was around? Shouldn't Zeus put them in their place, before all of Olympus got involved?

But that's when it hit her – Zeus! The leader of the gods, ruler of Mount Olympus, the most powerful being, surely if there was someone who knew anything, it had to be him! As Minnie left behind the fisticuffs over flirting, she raced for Zeus and Hera's thrones.

Unlike many of the rooms that floated and settled on the magic mountain, their thrones stayed in one place, so they could watch over the entire mountain at once. Minnie hadn't gone near it since her first day here, and she slowed down as she saw who was there, and who was not. The massive golden throne to the left was empty, the leader of the gods not on the mountain. Between the seats grew wide, soft white flowers that continuously dripped sweet-smelling nectar that Minnie recalled being served to her many times during her short life. In the golden throne adjacent, sat a goddess that Minnie was mostly unfamiliar with – yet felt instantly intimidated.

There sat a woman ten feet tall, and who would be taller if she wasn't hunched over and drinking from a bejeweled goblet. Though she was dressed beautifully in rainbow silks and endless glittery baubles adorning her skin, her eyes were darker than the harshest winter's night. Her auburn hair spiraled all around her, reaching all the way down to the floor. A yellow circlet hugged her forehead tightly, her skin was pale and weary, and when she pulled the goblet away, Minnie could see that woman was scowling, scowling, scowling as if it was the only expression she was capable of. With her drink empty, the woman began to reach over to pluck one of the white flowers, but when she saw Minnie, she stopped in place.

This was Hera, Queen of the gods, and Zeus' wife.

“Hello,” Minnie squeaked nervously, waving her fingers. “I, um, don't suppose you know where Zeus is?”

Like everyone who met Minnie, there was a few seconds of enraptured confusion as Hera looked upon the smaller goddess. But once those seconds passed, she slammed her empty goblet down on the arm rest, her teeth exposed as she spoke each harsh word with a snarl. “And WHY are YOU looking for HIM, oh lovely APHRODITE?” Her long pink painted fingernails clutched her chair as she bent down towards Minnie, her voice booming across the mountain. “Have his FLIRTATIONS captured YOU? Are YOU now to bear HIS child?”

“W-w-what?!” Minnie backed up, her heart pounding in fright. She'd been so used to everyone loving her instantly that someone approaching her with hate was a brand new experience. She looked behind her, having a small hope that her unwanted entourage that she'd left behind would come to her aide. In the distance they were now brawling, Pete having Mortimer in a headlock and Gladstone using his hand mirror to slap back any tossed grapes. “No, not at all!” Minnie shouted, trying to straighten herself up and face Hera's wrath head on. “I would never be with a married man!”

“HA!” It was less of a laugh and more of a roar, and Hera's shoulders rolled. “That's what THEY all SAY! But if there was someone my husband WANTS, it shall be HIS to have! Even NOW, he is frolicking on the mortal plane, CHASING some pretty thing, while I am HERE! Are you WAITING for his return, so you can BASK in his ARMS?” She threw down the goblet, and it shattered into a dozen pieces, coating the floor in anguish. “Are you the SAME? That because you are so BEAUTIFUL, you may have whatever it is you DESIRE?”

“There's – there's been a huge misunderstanding!” Later on, Minnie would feel very offended that Hera would accuse her of such behavior without even getting to know her. For now, she was too afraid, and tried to walk around the broken goblet pieces, some of them bigger than she was. “Look, I only came here to ask him something...and, well, maybe I can ask you? Please?” Hera leaned back into her seat, arms crossed, fingers tapping along her arms. It wasn't a “no”, so Minnie tried, placing her flat hands together. “Would you happen to know about a god named Mickey?”

Hera's brows knit, and a few creases in her skin gave away that she was actually thinking about it. But when she couldn't come up with an answer, she snorted hard through her nose. “And why should I know EVERY single god or goddess or demigod or mortal or WHATEVER it is on the lands?” With one nod of her sharp chin, the goblet began to reassemble itself – Minnie had to jump in order to avoid being carried by one of the shards. “It is the NATURE of the gods to take whoever they PLEASE – my husband may have HUNDREDS of children, as do the many immortals upon Mount Olympus. The life of ONE god holds no meaning!”

Minnie decided it was official – everyone on Mount Olympus was useless, including herself. “And let me guess, it doesn't bother you at all that there's a god down there you don't know about.”

With the goblet restored, Hera snatched it back up, and yanked one of the white flowers hard enough that its roots came up as well. “Did you long to add another MAN to your collection of ADMIRERS? Every day, we hear your lovers FIGHTING, more and more with each passing DAY!”

“They are not my lovers!” Indignation became stronger than fear, and Minnie dared herself to stare at Hera's face without backing off. “I never asked anyone to admire me! Can't you or Zeus make them stop? I don't want to be with any of them!”

“Why should we deem PUNISHMENT, when it is your own BEAUTY that is the cause of this STRIFE?” Hera tilted the flower downward, the nectar flowed smoothly into the goblet with an endless supply. “You have only YOURSELF to blame.”

Minnie had heard many incredulous and ridiculous things on both the mountain and the mortal plane. She knew in time she would understand them. But this was the most foolish thing she had ever heard of, and she knew right away she would never understand it. “You're saying this is _my_ fault?!” Her delicate hands rolled into fists, and she found the ground beneath her shaking – once again stunning all those around her, as she remained oblivious to why they were stunned. “I don't know anything about myself, or anything around me, or even where I came from! I don't know anything at all! But I do know I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't ask to be born, or to look this way! And when I do ask something, no one wants to tell me anything! That's _not my fault!_ ” The shaking intensified, with Mortimer and Gladstone trying to use a bewildered Pete as a shield in case anything else happened, and Hera gripping onto her throne for dear life. “Now I'm going to find some answers, and if you see Zeus, tell him unless he has my answers, then I don't want to hear him whining either!”

Unable to stand being on the mountain for a minute longer, Minnie separated the clouds beneath her and vanished. With that, the shaking stopped, and the palace of the immortals was quiet. Once everyone was quite sure it had gone for good, they resumed their drinking and fighting and napping and other lazy activities. Why should that concern them? It was someone else's problem, at least for today. The trio tried to blame one another, since they'd each been at the scene of the “crime” the last time the shaking had occurred, each theory more foolish than the last.

Hera was silent, no longer drinking, her mind working faster than all the gods and goddesses on Mount Olympus put together. A spurned woman didn't mean a stupid woman.

~*~

Daisy had told Minnie that they had to meet up at a certain place because of her husband's “limits”, but Minnie was still shaking with rage about the entire unfair affair from above. Because of the anger boiling her blood, she found she couldn't sit still and wait for her friend. She stomped away from the clear grassy field and headed forward, not caring where she went. She would have given anything for a distraction, anything to stop thinking about idiotic male pride and foolish female jealousy, and she was so wrapped up in her temper that she didn't realize she'd walked into a mortal village. She would have kept marching onward, when a tiny cry touched her ears.

“Is great-great-great grandpa really going to die?”

Minnie almost tripped over her own feet, and she jerked her head up, seeing a rather large family of mortals standing in and around a humble home that had a cracked door. Many of them were holding lit candles and quietly praying, if not murmuring to other members of the family. The child in question, perhaps no more than six, was tugging on his mother's dress, sniffling back tears. His mother tenderly stroked his brown locks, speaking gently. “It may be his time, my son. He has lived a long life, far longer than any man has, and we must see him off with a smile, all right?” The child tried to nod even if he didn't entirely agree.

It would have been a very depressing and solemn scene if not for the second sound Minnie heard – cheerful whistling. That belonged to the only duck on the scene, casually leaning against the window and checking inside every so often. Minnie recognized him from Mount Olympus, though those times were often only bursts of seconds, since he was constantly on the move. This was Hermes, the messenger god, who delivered important words from one to another. Both his red flopped hat and his loose red sandals had tiny wings on them that flapped endlessly, and his imperial robes seemed two sizes too big for him. With a scroll on one hand and a quill in the other, he tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for something inside. “Dead yet? … Nope. How about now? … Nope. ...Maybe now? … Dang it, this guy is taking forever.”

“What in the world are you doing?” Minnie asked, easily slipping by unnoticed by the weeping mortals. Though she had wanted a distraction, his blasé attitude seemed a little cruel. “Why are you waiting for this poor man to die?”

Hermes glanced up, and was very surprised to see who was talking to him. “Whoa! Aphrodite herself! Didn't know you left the mountain! This is an honor, miss, real honor.” He bowed his head respectfully, even making sure his hat was tipped. But when he returned to a proper standing position, whatever he'd been waiting for happened. “Whoops! I'd loved to chat, but duty calls!”

“Duty?” Minnie asked, but Hermes had already darted inside the house. Whenever she'd seen him on Olympus, he did seem to be sidetracked by every little thing. Anything he was vehemently interested in tended to last for a handful of seconds. But as soon as he was in, he was out, and now with a guest! He was holding onto the wrist of a mortal, one who had clearly seen many decades in his time, with a gray beard that could have been used to make ten sweaters. Yet unlike all the other mortals, he was clearly floating a few inches above the ground, and his skin was a mix of paste white and blue. His eyes were closed, resigned to let Hermes tug him along.

“Come on, guy, up and at 'em.” Hermes clicked his tongue. “The big boss is already pretty upset. He's going to see the wife today, and you're cutting into that time.”

“Big boss?” Minnie repeated while trying to touch the mortal – but unlike Hermes, her fingers went right through him. “Oh! … Isn't Zeus everyone's big boss?”

“Well, yes.” Hermes admitted, kicking his heels together so that his wings would flap much faster. “But this is my other big boss. Second big boss. Co-boss. And I gotta meet him really soon, or else I'm never going to heard the end of it.” As he began to hover upwards, the deceased mortal came up with him. “Catch you later, Aphrodite! Let's do brunch! It's the latest sensation sweeping the nation!” As he began rambling on the merits of doughnuts versus waffles, he suddenly sped off into the air – but not too fast that Minnie couldn't follow after him, which she decided she was going to do that very second.

Coincidences are amazing things once you took the time to stop and think of them. Minnie began to wonder if Daisy was right, and that coincidences were really destiny. Hermes was headed for the exact same spot Minnie was supposed to wait in, landing down on the grass in the middle of the night. Minnie, who had been more or less accidentally led back, was about to catch up and ask what was going on – and that's when the ground opened up, and a fountain of black smog exploded into the area. Gasping back a shriek, Minnie fell on her tail, unable to turn away from whatever that gaping hole was – and whatever was crawling out of it. The being itself was made out of black smog as well, a hulking shape that could tower over any seasoned soldier. Eyes the color of dried blood bored out of the creature, and a hideous rumbling noise echoed out.

“ **FOOLISH MORTAL! YOUR TIME HAS COME!** ”

Once again Minnie found herself utterly frightened, and she held her arms over her head as if that would protect her. The sound of this creature chilled her heart, as if bones were being slowly scraped together, and the monster continued to grow in size, heaving in hatred. She wished she was brave enough so she could do something, help save that poor mortal and Hermes - 

Except they weren't afraid at all. The ghostly mortal appeared to be dozing off, and Hermes was bored, checking things off his scroll. After a moment, he lifted his beak. “Uh, sir?”

“ **YOU THINK YOU CAN BEND A GOD TO YOUR WILL? IT IS MORTALS WHO SHOULD BE GRATEFUL FOR ALL THAT WE CAN DO!** ”

Hermes sighed. “Sir.”

“ **TELL ME WHY I SHOULDN'T DEMAND YOUR NEW FORM TO GROVEL AT MY FEET FOR ALL THAT I HAVE DONE!** ”

“Siiiiiir.”

The monstrosity then shoved itself at Hermes, the smoke coating his white feathers and making the green grass beneath them brown and wither. “ **WHAT IS IT, FETHRY?!** ”

“Well,” Hermes – chosen name Fethry, if Minnie had to guess – lightly tapped the quill to his scroll. “You told me to let you know whenever you did _that thing_ and...you're doing it now.”

“ **...I AM?** ” The beast drew back slowly, before seeming to look upon itself. “ **AW, PHOOEY, I AM. HOLD ON.** ” It appeared to take a gigantic intake of breath, and then in one mighty huff, all of the smoke blasted away like a massive sneeze. The noise appeared to wake up the mortal, but he also seemed to be unfazed by these circumstances, lightly brushing smoke off of his skin.

Once the smoke cleared, there stood another duck, although he was a good head taller than Fethry. His outfit was similar to a young sailor, decked in a blue coat over a golden robe, choosing to wear cloth shoes instead of sandals. His face was coated in black and red makeup, though he was vigorously rubbing it off his face with his robe. “Sheesh, every single time I lose my cool this happens...Hand me that quill, will you?” His voice, while a little garbled, was now nothing like the gloom and doom mere minutes before. With the quill in hand, he used it to chop away at the ridiculously long ponytail jutting out the back of his head. “Anyway... where was I? … Oh, right.” With his head free, he ran a hand through his head feathers. “Look, mister Bakkhos.” The mortal blinked upon being addressed. “I really had to haggle with the Sisters of Fate over you. And that's not fun. Ever. But...” He sighed, chucking the quill aside for Fethry to catch. “You can go after you see your great-great-great-granddaughter's wedding.”

The mortal's weary lips smiled, and he bowed as low as he could without his spine breaking – though he was a ghost, so he probably wasn't too worried about that. “You are most gracious, Lord Hades. I can never repay you for your kindness.”

“Yeah, you can't,” Hades huffed, turning his head away with his hands on his hips. “But this is the absolute last time! I don't care how much you cry, next time is your last time! All mortals gotta die! Now, go back home and enjoy the wedding, you stubborn old coot.” He waved a hand, hoping to get rid of them both. “I gotta see the wife. She's counting on me for something big.”

Fethry took the man by the wrist once more, but Bakkhos cupped his chin in thought. “You know, if it's not too much trouble, I would like to live to marry again-”

“ **GET YOUR OLD CARCASS OUT OF HERE, YOU PAIN IN THE BUTT!** ” Hades had poofed back into his smog and spooky form, sending any nearby trees shaking with his shout.

Fethry quickly saluted and dragged the man off before any more trouble could be had. But that meant Hades had to un-poof himself, wipe off the make-up again, and lacked anything to cut off the additional spontaneous ponytail. “Doggone stubborn little... Posideon can't control his scales, Zeus can't control his mind, so why do I get the uncontrollable make-over?!” As he fussed over his aggravating appearance, he finally spotted Minnie, who had been watching this entire scene with rapt attention. The usual seconds of shock passed, and then Hades smiled. “Why, a gal that pretty has to be Aphrodite! Daisy told me all about you!” He offered his hand to help her stand up.

The last piece of the puzzle connected, and Minnie clamped her tiny hands onto Hades'. “You're Daisy's husband!” As soon as their hands met, Minnie could feel the love between husband and wife flow through her – devotion, admiration, respect, this was a happily married man who had found true love. Instead of a simple hand shake, Minnie launched herself into a hug, throwing Hades off for a bit. “Oh, I knew those boors on Mount Olympus couldn't be right about you! Daisy would never marry a mean, scary kidnapper!”

“Thanks? I think?” Hades awkwardly pat Minnie's head, trying to push her back. “I don't know what those guys say about me up there – don't really care much either – but any pal of Daisy's is a pal of mine.” He slapped a hand to his chest, sending the remains of the smoke away. “My chosen name is Donald! Named after a really heroic sailor! And yours is... Minnie, right? Suits you, little girl!”

There was warmth and sincerity in his speech – unlike the other male gods, he wasn't trying to butter her up or win her over. He didn't have to, he was already taken. “Yes, but I didn't take my name from anyone. I just...chose my chosen name.”

Donald chuckled. “Sounds about right to me! And I know just what you're looking for. All we have to do now is wait for my better half. She'll be here any second.” Any second turned out to be that second, as a flurry of flower petals flooded their vision, revealing Daisy standing to their side.

Daisy opened her mouth, but when she saw Minnie, and then Donald, she dropped her hands with a whine. “Oooh, I wanted to introduce the two of you to each other! I had a whole big spiel planned! It was going to be so cute!” Defeated, she faced Donald, kissing his cheek. “You were polite to her, weren't you?”

“Of course I was!” Donald pouted, offended that he would be otherwise. “I'm always a gentleman! Besides, I knew it was her right away. You talk about her so much, I had her down to the exact detail. The big ears, the black fur, the twinkle in her eye-”

Daisy snapped Donald's beak closed with her fingers, cheeks pinking. “That's more than enough.”

Minnie giggled, at first not wanting to interrupt the moment. She felt she would have been content to watch them talk with each other hours on end even if she was ignored. Watching a real life pair of lovers was fascinating. But her own love for her friend couldn't be contained. “Oh Daisy, I love you too!” That got another hug.

“I didn't say anything like that!” Daisy insisted, blushing deeper in humility without making any effort to get Minnie off. “Donald, you're always exaggerating!”

Donald freed his beak with a slap of the hand. “I've always said you could use a friend!”

“You have never said that! Not even once! Besides, you need friends too!”

“I've got plenty of friends! Like... um... ah... er... Fethry!”

“Fethtry works for you, that doesn't count!”

“Ah, shaddap! What do you know?”

“You shut up, I know everything!”

“No you don't, that's why you asked me to find that Mickey guy, remember?”

Minnie blinked, finally remembering the original quest. “Oh! Mickey!” She untangled herself from Daisy, filled with excitement. “Did you find out who this Mickey is? No one seems to know, not even anyone from Mount Olympus!”

“Ah, those guys wouldn't know their toes from their elbows,” Donald shook his head, and then began to look through all the vast pockets of his outfit. “I asked all the souls in the Underworld, but I finally found some dead mermaids who knew the name. I could barely hold their attention for more than a minute, so all that I got is that he's some recluse on this far away island...a-ha! Here we go!” He pulled out a rolled up map, and unfurled it before them. “If I wasn't the god of Death, I bet I'd be the god of cartography.” He grinned in pride, smoothing the map out on his chest. “Now, your man Mickey is all the way over here.” He pointed to an island that was so far from the rest of Greece that it threatened to leave the map entirely. “Nothing and no one visits that place, except for mermaids and nereids... and seagulls, probably. They all have the same sized brain in the end.”

Daisy frowned, tilting her head this way and that. “That's all they know? That he's some hermit in the middle of nowhere? I gotta say I'm kinda disappointed.”

Donald shrugged, handing the map over. “Apparently he makes jewelry for them, but that's about all I could get them to say. Can't say he rings any bells for me.” Yet as he said that, his finger stayed on the map, continuing to circle that one island over and over. No, the name “Mickey” meant nothing to him. The circumstance, however... Could it be true? Did he want it to be true? A hard lump formed in his throat that refused to go away.

“Can we go see him?” The mystery was far from solved, so Minnie was far from satisfied. She bounced on her feet, hands clasped together, nudging Daisy repeatedly. “Please please please? I want to learn something that other people haven't learned! And I don't even know what a hermit is!”

Daisy rolled up the map and lightly bopped Minnie on the nose. “Oh, calm down, of course we'll go. Now that I know where the island is, I can take us there easily.” So far this Mickey sounded pretty boring, but she couldn't deny Minnie's wish. “But don't go crying to me if he's not everything you dreamed of.” Egos were pointless things, but Daisy felt she had to put up a false image in order to maintain some dignity in front of her friend.

Minnie clapped her hands in glee before whipping around to Donald. “Come with us! This is going to be so much fun! And I want to know everything about you two! How you met, your first date, your first kiss, your first time holding hands-”

“Tempting, but no,” Donald swiftly interrupted Minnie's babbling, not wanting to know what other firsts she could inquire about. “I'm cutting it close as is. I've got a strict schedule to stick to, it takes me forever to free up any time. Death stops for no one.” He lightly pat Minnie's cheek. “But it was good meeting you, kid. If you're with Daisy, it won't be the last you see of me.” This time he accepted Minnie's hug with a little less stiffness, and when it was over, he offered Daisy a kiss. “Next time we're together... I want to hear all about this, okay? I mean it.” His voice dipped into a low tone for an unusual seriousness. But he quickly distracted Daisy from whatever that meant. “You be nice.”

“I am _always_ nice,” Daisy said after stomping on Donald's foot, vanishing with her friend.

After Donald rubbed his sore foot, he stayed there for a moment longer than his schedule permitted. What was he worried about? There was no definite proof about who Mickey was. Maybe it was just one of Zeus' children, or some mortal whose fame skyrocketed into false gossip. Mickey could be just about anyone.

But if he was _someone_...Donald closed his eyes, lowering himself back into the Underworld. He had spent decades checking each and every soul that passed into his territory to see if they were the one, and still hadn't found him. He was prepared to see him dead. He wasn't prepared for what would happen if he was alive.

“Maybe I should've been the god of guilt instead,” he mumbled to himself as the earth swallowed him whole.

~*~

It was early morning by the time the girls landed on the correct island – for all of Daisy's grandstanding, she was not the demigoddess of directions. When they did land on the correct one, they weren't even sure they were on the correct one. They walked along a sandy beach with Daisy holding the map up in the air, squinting at the various lines.

“Why don't we just ask someone for directions?” Minnie asked, collecting seashells as they walked along.

“I don't need directions!” Daisy snapped, a cactus of irritation popping into her hair. “It's the map that's wrong! Or maybe the mermaids were wrong! Because I'm not wrong!”

Minnie didn't want to argue, and to her relief she saw up ahead she didn't have to. “I think you're right.”

“Of course I'm right!” Daisy paused. “...Wait, I am?”

Past the sandy beach and the large jagged rocks, the sun was glinting off a golden figure walking to the cliff shore. It looked like a bizarre mortal covered entirely in gold, and Minnie couldn't help but think she'd seen that face somewhere before. But this figure was clearly female, so it couldn't have been Mickey. She was carrying a wicker basket bursting with accessories and trinkets, lightly tossing them one by one toward the water.

In the water was a gaggle of giddy mermaids and nereids, jumping up to catch their prizes. As Minnie and Daisy carefully continued to approach, the jagged rocks on the beach got bigger and bigger, often blocking their view. As they got closer, they could hear the sea sirens coo the name, “Mickey, Mickey, Mickeeey!”

Daisy found him first, and she yanked on Minnie's shoulder, causing her to drop two seashells. “Hey, that must be him, he's the only guy here!” She pointed at the man sitting on the edge of the rocks, his legs dangling towards the ocean, handing out his own share of bracelets and earrings. His fur was still noticeably dirty, but his smile could be plainly seen. His tunic had gotten several extra tears since his last visit, but this was the least of his concerns.

As the next nereid swam up for her gift, a glimmering anklet, Mickey pulled it back and shook his head. “Oh no you don't, Tallia! I heard about your argument with Lydia! Now you make nice and apologize, or you ain't gettin' nothin'.”

“But that's not faiiir!” Tallia cried, ready to burst into tears, her palms slapping the water. “I want it, I want it, I want it!”

“Not until you apologize,” Mickey said again, shoving the girl away with his good foot. “Bad girls don't get gifts. And she's your sister! You love her, I know it.”

But his single action gave away his not good leg, and Daisy gasped, a hand to her beak. “Look at that!” How could you not? His left leg was twisted like a paper scroll wrung with hard hands, and one could almost see the bone against the skin. “He can't be a god! Who ever heard of a disfigured god? All our injuries get healed super quick because of the ambrosia!” Typically this would be when Minnie would ask what ambrosia is, and Daisy waited for the question. And waited. And waited. And... what was the hold up here? “I said, because of the ambrosia!” She jerked her head towards Minnie, expecting her usual curiosity and chorus of questions.

But Minnie couldn't hear Daisy at all, nor did she care what Daisy was saying. Her eyes were completely on Mickey, who was now applauding as the girls hugged and made-up. Of course she saw his leg, she saw everything about him, including something incredibly, extremely important that she did not know. Something about his chest, and his arms, something about them was – was different from the men on Olympus, different from Donald and Goofy – something that was making her mouth open and her heart beatbeatbeat. Her seashells were abandoned, dropped to the sand. Only then did she remember Daisy's existence, and now it was her turn to yank Daisy so hard that they both fell on their knees, hidden by the rocks. “Daisy!” she hissed in a whisper, hoping they hadn't been seen. “What – what – what are _those_?!” She flailed wildly, trying to gesture toward Mickey.

Daisy blinked slowly. Minnie tended to ask things in a calm, sweet, polite matter. What was sending her into a slobbering frenzy? She poked her head over the rocks, trying to guess. “You mean his little harem over there?”

“ _No!_ ” Minnie screeched before saying it again quieter. Mickey glanced around, wondering if there were some sick seagulls about, but he shrugged it off. “No! Not those! It's - it's these!” She slapped her chest and her arms, gestured back to Mickey, slapped the same places again, over and over.

Daisy didn't even try to guess whatever it was Minnie was indicating, mostly because this was hilarious to watch. She'd have to remember this moment in the future whenever she needed a good laugh. Even now she had to pinch herself to prevent any big guffaws. But she finally made the effort to think, and could only come up with one idea. “Muscles?”

“Muscles!” Minnie exclaimed while throwing her arms up in the air. “Yes! Muscles! He has them!” While Mickey's legs were frail, all the years of working with metal and ore had considerably toned him up. “Oh, _boy,_ does he have them.” It was an excellent contrast to all the vagabonds on Mount Olympus who were more flab than fab, choosing to let their godly magic do their work for them. Minnie crouched on the rock to watch Mickey again, her thin tail flicking about. This man was muscles, and sweat, and work, and with each and every passing second, words she didn't know even existed before now came with clear definitions in her head.

“He's – he's _dreamy._ ” Mickey was being introduced to the newest member of the mermaid clan, a youngling who was placed in his lap. Her childhood would be short, at least physically. She'd have a child's mind forevermore. Mickey laughed as the babe tried to grab one of his ears, and he blew a raspberry on her cheek.

“He's _marvelous._ ” Mickey was listening to the various stories being exchanged while noting what new shiny jewelry they wanted next. When a nereid snatched his walking stick to play a game, he said in return he'd have to decide the rules. When they splashed him, he splashed right back, all the while gently holding the child in his arm, pressed close to his chest. The winner would choose the girl's name, and it'd better be a good one!

“He's _darling._ ” Now it was time for breakfast, with girls handing over fresh fish. Mickey bit the head off of a nice plump red one, and pulled off smaller pieces for the babe to eat. He wiped the mess off with the back of his arm and belched loudly before trying to pick out scales from his teeth with his fingernails.

Daisy stared at her friend, ultimately learning that apparently everyone had a type. “Huh. Thought you'd be the more 'loves everyone' kind of deal.” The guy was kind of cute, she supposed. Not better looking than Donald, but then who was? She brushed the sand off of her dress. “Guess he'll be happy to have another female fan. Let's go say hi.”

“NONONONO!” Minnie tackled Daisy down and dragged her back into the rocks' shadow. Mickey definitely heard it this time, but he was so used to his sort of solitude he still blamed the seagulls. He made the girls promise to stay away from the birds since they were either fighting, sick, or sickly fighting.

Minnie pinned Daisy down, which to be honest wasn't very impressive, as Daisy could have easily shoved her off if she hadn't been so startled. “I can't meet him like this! I'm not ready!” Minnie kept her hands on Daisy's shoulder, shaking her for every other word.

“You're the goddess of beauty! You're _always_ ready!”

“Not like this! This is different! I have to look special!”

Daisy flicked her finger to Minnie's forehead. “For goodness' sake, calm down! You're Aphrodite! Everyone loves you when they meet you!”

“Hera didn't!” Minnie countered, refusing to get up.

“Okay, _besides_ Hera.” Daisy snorted. “What are the odds that another god would hate you before knowing you?”

“Broke a rule, broke a rule, broke a rule!” One of the darker skinned nereids was singing, swaying around in song. “Damara broke Mickey's ruuule, ha ha ha!”

“What rule?” Damara the mermaid asked, sticking out her lower lip.

“His 'no talking about Aphrodite' rule!”

Minnie and Daisy paused in their quiet bickering, slowly moving their heads to look back at the once serene scene, both of them mouthing a worried, “Uh-oh.”

“But I was talking about a pretty girl I met that could have been Aphrodite!” Damara sunk lower into the water, but the hidden heroines could clearly see this was one of the very same mermaids that had tried to drown them the day before. “I was talking about Aphrodite, I was talking about someone who could have been Aphrodite! So I'm not in trouble, so I'm not a bad girl, so I'm still a good girl!”

Mickey sighed heavily, his walking stick finally returned to him. “All right, I'll say it one more time, so you all better remember! No talking about that stuck-up, awful, _rotten_ Aphrodite whenever I'm around! You got that?” His cheerful mood was immediately soured, his teeth grinding back and forth. “Getting to be a goddess and all that good stuff, just because you're pretty...Why, if I ever saw her, I'd spit in her eye, is what I'd do!” He even demonstrated, hocking a big one into the water. His audience began to copy his spit, which soon developed into a competition of whoever could spit the furthest. 

Inch by inch, Minnie sank down until she laid completely flat on top of Daisy, her limbs lifeless. Having Hera's hate was a bother, but something she could live with. What did she care what a jealous wife thought?

But having Mickey's hate? That came with another brand new word in her love themed vocabulary, one she wished she could forget in that same second – heartbreak.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my fantastic editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> Five chapters in and our love interests FINALLY meet! I used a lot of an old storybit for it, I admit. And yes, more Beagles! I'll always have plenty of those it pick from!

Gods and goddesses were capable of speaking any language they desired, and being all-powerful magical beings, they could understand any word that came from any creature's mouth. But no one on Mount Olympus could understand what “AuuuuuuuUUUughhhhhhahahaaaaaa” meant. Had it come from anyone else but Minnie, they would have found it incredibly disturbing and tried to shut down the noise. But because it was Minnie, they found the sound adorable and even charming.

She laid on her throne, leaning on the armrests with her face to the sky, continuing to warble in odd moaning and sobbing noises. She ignored the men cooing and fawning over her, dropping presents all around. Even when Pete tried to gain her favor by plopping a pearl necklace into her lap, it merely turned into a macabre version of “he loves me, he loves me not”. As usual, Mortimer, Gladstone, and Pete babbled on about how great they were, how great she was, and how great they'd be together until it turned into a not so great fistfight. Minnie was far too lost in her own agony to even notice.

Mickey, the god of mystery, who was so sweet and so nice and so handsome, hated Minnie. The two conflicting images she had of him swirled around in her head – the Mickey that treated his sea family with affection and sincerity, and the Mickey that wanted to spit in her eye. She wanted to be near him, to touch those strong muscles on his arm, to hear his voice say her name with kindness, to learn every single detail about him...and he called her rotten! After hearing that, Daisy had to literally drag Minnie away from the beach, as the demigoddess was fairly sure Minnie was no longer able to move on her own. Daisy kept saying Mickey wasn't worth the trouble, but all her attempts to cheer Minnie up went nowhere.

“At least I've got real problems!” Pete was snarling, banging his dirty fists against the armor on his gut. “What's the use of bein' the god of war when no one feels like havin' a war? The most I can get out of anyone these days is guys pickin' on some goofball because he's clumsy. It's like wantin' a banquet and just gettin' a measly apple! I'm starvin'!”

“You, of all people, are hardly starving,” Mortimer laughed while poking Pete in the belly. “Look, we can influence mortals, but we can't make them do exactly what we want. That's the way the wine flows.” He yanked his hand back before Pete could break his wrist. “I mean, except for Aphrodite. A girl that beautiful, I bet she could make the ocean turn back the tide with just one wink!”

Not one to be outdone, Gladstone offered his own ridiculous flattery. “I bet she could turn all the dead in the Underworld back to life with just a flick of her tail!”

Pete was always eager to win contests. “I bet she could get all of Troy to go to war over just one look!”

As deep in mourning as Minnie was, it was getting harder to concentrate on her suffering with all this noise. She had come to the last pearl – he loves me not – when she suddenly snapped, “Name my favorite color.”

All three men abruptly turned their heads, surprised that the object of their affection had actually come into the conversation. Having genuinely no idea what the real answer was, they gave their best shot.

“Lucky green!” was Gladstone's, “Wine white!” was Mortimer's, and “Blood red!” was Pete's.

“Those are _your_ favorite colors,” Minnie grumbled, pushing herself into a sitting position. She didn't know why she was bothering with the men who never listened to her before, but they'd caught her in a bad mood. “None of you know anything about me, not even my favorite color! _I_ don't even know what my favorite color is, because you people don't tell me anything. You all claim to love me, but you don't know anything about me.”

“I know all about you!” Pete declared far too loudly, straightening his back and jutting out his chin. “I know that you're prettier than posies, way lovelier than any other lady, and-”

“Is there anything you know about me that's _not_ about my looks?” Minnie interrupted, knowing that even as she scowled and gritted her teeth and glared as hard as she could, these egomaniacs would still only see her as gorgeous. Within seconds her point was proven as Pete was counting on his fingers, trying to find something he knew about her, anything, that didn't pertain to her appearance. Gladstone and Mortimer were more than happy to one-up him, but to their disappointment they also came up short.

Pete soon gave up, throwing his hands up in the air. “Aw, what does it matter? Everyone on Mount Olympus loves you, but I love you most of all! You're the best thing that's happened to this place since myself!”

“That's not love!” Minnie was now on her feet, wagging a finger at all three of them, stepping over all the luxurious gifts she had no use for. “You might as well put a statue of me here, there'd be no difference! Love is not just looks! That's shallow, and silly, and – and – and you can't claim to love someone when you don't even know what their favorite color is!”

And in that exact second Minnie suddenly realized she had no idea what Mickey's favorite color was. Her eyes widened and her finger began to fall – come to think of it, she didn't know his favorite food either, or if Mickey was his first name or chosen name, or why he had muscles, or where he came from, or - and this hit Minnie the hardest – anything about him besides his looks. Self-loathing welled up in her throat like an urge to heave. She'd been crying and wailing over a man she hadn't spoken two words to. How was she any better than these three, who even now were once again trying to guess her favorite color despite her answer a minute earlier?

“Oh, no,” Minnie covered her face with her hands, horribly embarrassed. Hadn't she tried to find Mickey in the first place _because_ no one knew anything about him? She could hardly call this mission accomplished. She wanted to have information no one else had, so she could stop feeling so stupid compared to everyone else. But now she needed advice on where to go from here, and she wasn't going to get it from the all-mighty peanut gallery. She lifted her head, and with a hard gulp, reluctantly said, “Thank you. All of you.” She jumped down to the mortal plane before giving them a proper explanation – she doubted they would understand it anyway.

Again she was proven right, and the moment she was gone they began fighting over who she was thanking the most. But something Minnie had failed to notice was that with each fight about her, it was getting longer, more violent, and far more destructive. Shouting matches would soon involve the other residential gods, and thrones would be destroyed after being used as weapons. Things were escalating day by day.

Today wasn't the breaking point, but it was on the horizon.

~*~

Goofy's morning routine was mostly the same every day. He would tumble out of his makeshift bed, say good morning to his statue of Millie, find a way to the kitchen, eat a modest meal, and then go into town to either make money or find inspiration. Yesterday had been a make money day – it was particularly successful, as he helped a small crew put together a rooftop and he'd only fallen in twice. That meant today was an inspiration day, which meant he could travel all over town to find anything to stir his muse. He made sure to wave hello to all he saw, despite knowing many would merely roll their eyes and quickly wave back before trying to get out of his line of sight. Only the children would chime back “Good morning!”, since they were too young to share their parents' prejudice. He didn't mind - so he told himself.

Something he did mind was that he hadn't seen Daisy or Minnie ever since that one day. Had they been travelers that were merely passing by? This was disappointing to think of, since they'd been awfully nice, and he was just about done with Minnie's peach. As much as he could tell himself over and over, day by day, that he didn't mind the village's treatment of him, it still hurt in a place he tried to ignore. He was lonely, but there was nothing he could do to change it if the villagers themselves didn't want to change their attitude.

During his walk he could spot the temple of Aphrodite, and more importantly saw some familiar figures sneaking into it. His long face frowned – as much as he cared about the village, it did hold some seedy characters. Whereas Goofy's trouble was the result of mistakes, clumsiness, and not thinking things out 100%, these particular men and one woman committed trouble on purpose. They were thieves, and not even good ones.

Goofy marched straight toward the temple, and as he took one step inside, he shouted, “You Beagles better be on your best behavior!”

The Beagle family was rumored to have a branch in every village in Greece, and the less Beagles one had, the better off the village was. This village had three, making the village unlucky but not terribly poor. There was Burger Beagle, the youngest and the heaviest who was often stuffing his mouth with whatever his fingers could grab – he'd tried to eat one of Goofy's well beyond ripe peaches and was turning green for the effort. Bouncer Beagle was the big brother, who was taller than everyone in the village and had more muscles than most of them, too. There was an ongoing rumor that he had a gold tooth but some people argued that it was just an extremely dirty yellow. Lastly there was Ma Beagle, the matriarch, a heavyset woman with gray hair and a gray disposition. No one was sure if she was the mother of all the Beagles or simply one of many, and any who dared ask tended to find themselves sporting a black eye afterwards.

Ma Beagle placed her hands on her hips – no, now that Goofy looked closely, one hand on was on her hip and the other was behind her back – and pointed her nose upward. “I don't know what you're implying! My babies are _always_ on their best behavior.”

Bouncer, not the fastest horse in the stable, scratched his head. “We are?”

Goofy crossed his arms and tapped his foot, looking from one member of the family to the next. “Then you weren't here to rob the temple, were ya?”

“Robbing a goddess's temple!” Ma placed her hand on her head – the other still behind her – and leaned back as if she could faint at the very notion. Despite the poor act, Bouncer held out his arms to catch her. “Who would ever do such a thing? They would have to be the lowest of the low!”

“Besides,” Burger added after a sick belch, “there wasn't anything here but old peaches and a few coins.” Ma swiftly kicked her son in the leg, causing him to fall over with a cry. 

“I knew it!” Goofy stomped up to the aging mother, holding out a flat palm. “You give back that money, it ain't yours! It was an offerin' to the goddess, and it meant a whole lot to someone to give that up!”

Ma dropped the frail old lady act as she stood back up, sneering as she held up the stolen satchel that clinked as it swung from her fingers. “Finders keepers, goof! If it's between someone with rocks in his head and me and my boys, they'll believe me first! Why don't you take that big ugly snout of yours and keep it out of my business!”

“You tell 'im, Ma!” Bouncer cheered after he helped his little brother stand up, and made sure to smack Burger's hands before he could try eating another peach.

Goofy tried to take the satchel back, but Ma swung it away, taking several steps back for every single step he took forward. “You can't take what don't belong to you! It ain't right! You should make a decent livin' for yerself!”

Ma laughed, easily dodging each of Goofy's attempts to grab her. “And you call your life decent? You're the village idiot! Maybe me and my boys aren't going to win any popularity contests anytime soon, but at least we like each other!”

“Mostly!” Burger and Bouncer said together.

“But _nobody_ wants you around!” Ma made a swift turn around the single pedestal, but when Goofy tried the same tactic, his untied sandal caused him to trip. He cried out as he fell over the pedestal, causing it to fall with him and splattering the remains of the peaches on his back. The Beagles laughed harshly, Bouncer even doubling over while Burger held his aching stomach. Ma tossed the satchel up and down in her hands, looking down at Goofy in more ways than one. “See? At least when we're bad, we do it right! You try to be right, and you're bad at it! I bet the entire village would be better off if you weren't around!” Satisfied at the sting in the sculptor's eyes, she headed out of the temple. “Come on, boys, Mama's gunna buy us some nice new clothes!”

“How about an early lunch, Ma? I'm starving!”

Goofy laid there until their mocking voices could no longer be heard, as he was afraid if they saw him making an effort they'd fire off more insults. With a resigned sigh, he sat on his knees and pushed the pedestal back into its original position. This wasn't an unusual day for him – which made it all the worse. “I sure hope Aphrodite ain't mad at me for messin' up her temple,” he mumbled to himself as he picked smelly peach jam off of his fur.

“Oh, I'm sure she's not mad at all!”

Goofy was so taken aback by the sudden voice that his body jerked and he knocked over the pedestal again. Once he set it upright, he looked at the corner of the temple where the voice came from – out of literally nowhere stood Minnie, in the same mortal disguise she had used before. Goofy had no idea how she could have gotten in without seeing her, but he put it out of his mind. “Minnie! Aw, I was just thinkin' about you!”

Minnie smiled – if she couldn't expect any help from Olympus and Daisy had told her to give up, she really only had one other person she could go to for help. “It's good to see you again, Goofy.” She then darted forward for one of her traditional hugs – stopped when the stench hit her nose – then decided it was something she could live with and wound up in his arms anyway.

Goofy chuckled quietly, picking Minnie up into his arms, since she was very light to begin with. “Always an affectionate one, ain'tcha?” He easily stood up, carrying Minnie around in one arm as he walked outside of the temple. They'd both need some cleaning up now, and the local well wasn't too far off. “But yer peach ain't ready yet, I'm afraid. Still gunna need a few more days on that one.”

“Oh, no, I didn't come for that.” Minnie continued to hang onto him, ignoring the townsfolk's stares – Goofy covered in foodstuffs was normal, but him carrying around a pretty young girl was not. Some craned their necks to follow them, while others blinked so much their eyes stung. “I actually was hoping you could give me some advice.”

The tall dog came to an abrupt stop, staring at Minnie as if she'd suddenly gained two extra ears. Did he hear right? “Well! I, uh...Gwarsh! Nobody's ever asked me for advice before.” He couldn't believe he had to say it out loud. He'd been so used to everyone calling him a moron that he believed it himself, so this was throwing him for all kinds of loops. “Are you sure there ain't anyone else you can ask?”

“Not really,” Minnie admitted with a small shrug. “But I trust you! I know you'll be honest with me!”

She had him there. He scratched his head idly, and then resumed walking. “I suppose that's true enough. Never did like liars. One lie always leads to another, and then you got yourself nothin' but trouble.” At the brick and mortar well, he sat Minnie down at the well's edge and grabbed a wooden bucket. “I guess anythin's worth tryin' once. What did you wanna ask me?”

Minnie kicked her tiny legs about, unsure of how to word this the way it needed to be said. While later in life Aphrodite would be known for many accomplishments and stories, one of the few things people would remember is that she first coined the phrase, “I have this friend.” Once Goofy nodded, she continued. “She...she wants to be close to a certain someone, but she doesn't know how to do it. She doesn't have a lot of friends. The first friend she made was kind of by accident. But this someone already doesn't like her. He doesn't even know her, and he wants nothing to do with her.”

Goofy “hmmm”ed the matter over as he tied the well's rope to the bucket and then tossed the bucket into the well. He continued to “hmm” as the bucket sunk into the water, and “hmm”ed once more as he pulled the bucket back up. “Not an easy one, that's for sure.” When the bucket was in his hands, he dumped the entire contents on himself, and then resumed the process all over again. “Y'know, I kinda have the same problem here. Most folks don't wanna get to know me. They hear the name 'Goofy', and turn the other way. They don't even wanna try to learn who I am. You know why that is?”

Minnie glanced up, waving her hand in front of her nose as the smell was still there. “Because people fear change?”

“Nope.” Goofy dropped the bucket with a thud into the well. “Cause people don't like feelin' dumb. They'd rather stick with the wrong facts than think of themselves as bein' dumb. Feelin' like that, it's the worst, cause you hear all the time how other people talk about dummies. You don't wanna be seen as one of them, don't wanna be a target. People'd rather be mean and ornery than admit they were wrong. Might be the case with your fella.” After dumping the water on his back for a second time, he wrung out the water from his long floppy ears. “Does he know anythin' about her at all?”

Minnie leaned back as she recalled that moment, tapping her fingers on the stones of the well. “I think the only thing he got right was her name.”

“He doesn't even know what she looks like?”

“I don't think so, no.” 

“Well then, I'd say it's pretty darn easy!” Goofy grinned, his teeth sticking out in a bit of pride and glee. “Why doesn't she go up to him and not tell him her name?”

Perhaps to a more seasoned goddess, one who had been taught more about mortality and the ways of the world, this idea wouldn't have sounded like a good one. But to Minnie, young and fresh and desperate, this was perhaps the most brilliant plan she'd ever heard of. “That's – that's it! He doesn't know my chosen – I mean, her nickname!” She'd only given it out to Daisy and Goofy – Daisy would only tell her husband, and Goofy didn't even know he had befriended a goddess. Many had assumed she was Aphrodite just by looking at her, but that didn't mean she had to confirm it! “Goofy, you're a genius!” She jumped into his arms, and laid a big fat kiss on his cheek.

Goofy's cheeks reddened, and he pat Minnie on the head, humbled by such rare praise. “Aw, it ain't nothin'! I bet once that guy gets to know your friend, he'll like her a whole lot.”

Giggling in ecstasy, Minnie squeezed Goofy even tighter, almost delirious in joy. “Oooh, you're the best, Goofy! I bet Aphrodite is going to double your reward! Triple it! She's going to make you the happiest mortal in the whole wide world, just you wait!” She kicked her feet about, and Goofy found himself caught up in her euphoria even if he didn't entirely understand it. They laughed merrily together as he carried her around the well in their own sort of miniature parade. Those that stopped to stare before now found themselves feeling warm in the chest, kind of wishing they could join in.

But when Goofy finally finished cleaning himself, Minnie had vanished, and he couldn't recall seeing her go off in any particular direction. He figured he'd see her again, and he could only hope her friend would have good luck with her odd problem. Maybe if he left another offering to Aphrodite, things would work out. Having long since grown sick of the smell and sight of peaches, his next offering would be a crate of oranges – which he still didn't realize he was supposed to burn.

A quiet rumor grew the following day that he was doing it on purpose so the awful smell would keep thieves like the Beagles out. It was the first day of changes for Goofy, though not the biggest. That would come in its own time, for which he would receive both the greatest blessing and the most tragic curse.

~*~

Minnie didn't flounce off to Mickey's island right away, as tempting as the urge was. Before she willed herself back to the shore with sharp rocks, she spent many hours trying to make herself look less pretty. The idea was that if she didn't look like an all-perfect goddess, maybe Mickey wouldn't assume she was the one he loathed. But much like Donald had trouble controlling his appearance when he was enraged, Minnie's beauty was its own battle. When she tried to muss up her spitcurls of black fur around her ears, they bounced back into shape even curlier than before. When she washed off the make-up that appeared on her face, she found herself gorgeous with natural blush and full colored lips. She ripped her dress in her hands, but instead of looking like a poor degenerate, now she resembled an Amazon princess who had escaped war without a scratch.

It was when she was almost inclined to give herself a black eye that she realized perhaps she was going too far. If Mickey liked her or not, he'd ultimately decide that on his own when he met her. So Minnie, biting the bullet before it was invented, willed herself to the island with only hope on her side. On this downcast day full of dark clouds, there was no sign of the unknown god, nor any splashes from his nautical friends. Minnie bit on her lower lip and wandered around for any sign of her target and only stopped when she came across a single cave in the rocky mountainside.

The cave was nothing special, and so Minnie was puzzled. Surely a god – even a minor one – would adorn his home with some sort of decoration, or an announcement of his greatness. That's what she'd seen of the major ones on Mount Olympus. But there was nothing spectacular or even unusual about this dark cave that stood over the ocean. It looked like the same you’d find anywhere else on earth. She stood in the entrance of the cave, peering into the blackness –

And then something peered back at her.

Minnie held a staring contest with the thing with yellow eyes. A grinding sound echoed in the cave, followed by clicking and whirring. Minnie stepped back, but as the cave's torches illuminated the figure, she felt less fear and more confusion. She remembered seeing this unusual creature back with Mickey the first time, the thing that didn't blink or move or do much of anything unless so ordered. It was human in design, but it was gold from head to toe. Gold skin, gold eyes, and as Minnie stared at this creature, she could see screws in her – this thing was female, no doubt – elbows and neck. It took on the design of a human female wearing a civilian’s robe, but it could never have actually passed for it. It was just too strange.

She knew she'd seen that face somewhere – and not simply from that one day – but she just couldn't place it. The being stared at her, and Minnie stared back. The woman carried no emotion, Minnie couldn't even guess what it was thinking – if she could think. The love goddess took a deep breath, arched her back, and put bravery into her voice. “I would like to see Mickey, if that's all right with you!”

Axelia hadn't been designed to shoo away visitors because Mickey never thought he'd have any. The mermaids and nereids would never make the effort to crawl all the way up to the cave, and no one else knew he existed or just didn't care. Thus Axelia saw no reason to deny Minnie her wish, turning around and heading back inside. “Follow-Follow-Follow-me. Master-Mickey-Is-Deep-Inside-And-Working-Working-Working.”

Hadn't that been easy! Minnie's muscles relaxed, and she couldn’t help herself – she started giggling. It was all just so absurd, like a dream. “You call him Master?” she asked as she walking alongside Axelia. “Is he that powerful a god?”

“Master-Mickey-Created-Created-Created-Me.”

Minnie fumbled in her footing, utterly thrown off by that repetitive fact. “Created!” she exclaimed, now moving around to get a look at anything she might have missed about Axelia. “My goodness! That's amazing!” Gods and goddesses could summon anything with a snap of their finger, but Mickey made a moving, talking, fully sized person all on his own? Her astonishment only grew as they passed by more caves where other Axelias were hard at work carving minerals and ore from the rocks. “Then does that mean he made all of them, too?”

“Yes-Yes-Yes. There-Are-Are-Are-Twelve-Of-Us.” No pride, no boredom, facts and only facts.

“That must make them your sisters!” Minnie replied as she tried to catch up to her guide who hadn't stopped walking. “What are their names?”

“We-Are-All-All-All-named-Axelia.”

“...Really?” Her enthusiasm slowed down a smidgen. “Doesn't that get confusing?”

“No-No-No.” Maybe Mickey wasn't so good at coming up with names, but his craftsmanship wasn't lazy. Minnie could tell the metal maiden was made with careful dedication and love. She wasn’t just functional, she was beautiful. Each and every single Axelia was clearly made with precise deliberation and gentle hands. “The-Master-Made-Me-Me-Me-Third.” Axelia answered, eyes ahead, perhaps unable to go in any other direction. “He-Created-Us-Us-Us-To-Assist-Him.”

Minnie had many more questions, but then the ground underneath her stopped being dusty and hard, and now was soft and smooth. She was no longer walking on a cave floor, but the floor of a home, and she looked up to see the elaborate workshop of the blacksmith god. On the walls were scrolls of maps and blueprints drawn by hand, and six other Axelias were involved in their own tasks – cooking, cleaning, constructing and bending tiaras and sharpening spears. Shelves of finished weapons and ornaments lined the walls, showing off Mickey's latest accomplishments. Colors smiled at her from these lovely trinkets, and Minnie longed to wear them.

Heat billowed across the room, coming from the ceiling, where lava from the volcano lazily flowed into a large black forge. Sitting before the forge on a gray stone work bench was the very man she'd come to see. Up close, it was clear how dirty Mickey was, how long it'd been since he last bathed, the faded colors of his torn robe, and the sweat rolling down his greasy fur. He hadn't noticed the company, as he was hammering a long, zig-zagged object that glowed intensely. Minnie had never seen anything like it, and it crackled with electricity every time he struck it. With each blow, the shape became more defined, tighter, and he welcomed every spark that trailed up his arm.

Axelia spoke. “Master-Mickey-You-Have-Have-Have-A-Visitor.”

Mickey's arm stopped in the air. He slowly lowered the tool to his side – and began roaring in laughter. The sheer idea of anyone coming to see him, of making that effort, was so impossible that it bordered on ridiculous, especially coming from his stoic servant. “A visitor! Th-that's rich! I bet there's one, why not a thousand of 'em!” He slapped his knee, and then bent over, holding himself due to laughing so much. Perhaps it'd been because he hadn't laughed in so long that this simple misunderstanding was causing him to react so wildly. He then began to turn around and Minnie saw one of his legs – his left- drag. “Didn’t know you girls could have a sense of humor-”

He promptly shut up the moment he saw Minnie, as most all living things did when they first saw her. She was used to it, ever since she first woke up on the bubbly shell, but for the first time she was actually grateful for it. Now it gave her a few extra seconds to think of what to say on her end, though she didn't think it'd last this long. She nervously played with her dress, waiting for him to get over the initial shock, but he didn't. Instead of giving her time to think about what she should say, she instead found herself memorizing more of him.

Mickey was small, his fingers tinted with smudges of dirt and oil. He wore a small brown robe around his waist, and that was it, modesty long since forgotten. He was covered in grime and sweat, and Minnie found to her own surprise that such filth rather excited her. It was proof of his exhaustion, proof of his dedication, and she even found herself enjoying the smell that came off him – the smell of work. She smiled at him, and he looked ready to swallow his own heart, eyes bulging out and mouth hung open. He hadn't even realized he was making a long “UHHH” noise until Axelia calmly walked over and pushed his jaw closed.

The touch affirmed Mickey that he wasn't dreaming or hallucinating, which was well enough since he knew his imagination would never have come up with someone this breathtaking. But even if she'd been as ugly as sin, he would have been shocked for ages – who would come visit him and why? But she wasn't ugly as sin, she was a perfect virtue of loveliness, and he became suddenly very aware that he wasn't. He remembered his leg, his clothes, his dirt, and mortification overcame him so greatly that he wished for death. When he spoke, it was barely above a horrified whisper. “Wh...who are you?”

This, at least, Minnie was prepared for. She curtsied, taking her time to make it long and respectful. “My name is Minnie. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mickey.”

Mickey gaped for words, and then he flailed his limbs at emotionless Axelia. “W-Why didn’t ya tell me I had a visitor?!”

“I-Just-Did-Did-Did,” Axelia replied, and her tinny voice almost seemed to carry a hint of amusement, but maybe Minnie was hearing what she wanted to hear.

“Well ya shoulda told me sooner!” Mickey yelped, now very aware of his exposure, and his filth, and he felt a great need to cover himself – or die, whichever came easier. He tried to get up on his own, her presence so overwhelming he forgot his own disability, and he promptly fell over. Minnie could see it clearly now, his deformed left leg that refused to work. It twisted at an unnatural angle, but thankfully Mickey didn’t appear to be in pain – physically. Emotionally he was a wreck. “I-I woulda gotten the place cleaned up! Made her some tea, o-or somethin’, and, aw, gee, this place is a pigsty! Look at me! No, don’t look at me!”

Minnie stifled a giggle. Normally most men and women she came across got over their surprise fairly easily, and then treated her with utmost respect, speaking calmly and with reverence. She found herself enjoying Mickey falling apart at the seams. It was very real, if she had to put a word to it. A very mean aspect of her kind of wanted to wind him up further, but she held it back. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you. Was I interrupting your work?”

Axelia didn't help Mickey, which Minnie found odd. Instead, he pushed himself back up before Minnie had a chance to offer aide, and he glanced quickly to his project. “No,” he lied. “Nothin’… Nothin’ important. I’ll get to it later.” His tail flicked back and forth, and he rubbed one of his arms, nervous. “Uh… what brings ya by?”

Seeing as her mere presence was sending him into a heart attack, Minnie knew she couldn't tell Mickey that she'd become utterly fascinated by his mystery and needed to learn more about him. But Daisy was wrong, mermaids weren't useless ditzes, because they had given Minnie a perfect idea. “Well, I saw those lovely trinkets you made for the mermaids and nereids, so I was wondering, if you could...May I have one?”

Mickey scratched his nose as he listened, but stopped soon enough as he appeared to realize this was not something one does in front of a lady – a _lady_ lady. But in its own way, her request seemed to both deflate him and cheer him up. Of course she had come for his handiwork – it was all he could do. As if anyone would actually come for him alone! Yet at the same time, his fame had reached out and clearly impressed someone – he wasn't sure if she was mortal or spirit or something else altogether – and they'd made the effort to come all the way out here to his humble home. Ultimately he decided to take it as flattery. “A’course I can make ya somethin’. That’s my specialty. What did you want?”

Alas, she hadn't planned this far ahead, and Minnie fidgeted. “What? Oh, um, I...I'd like anything really!” When his eyes narrowed, she panicked, and she tugged so hard on her sleeves she was worried she'd tear them off. “A bracelet? Anklet? No, a necklace! I, uh, I'm not sure, I mean, I'd really be happy with whatever you made!”

What Minnie didn't know was that Mickey wasn't annoyed. It was hardly the first time he'd come across someone indecisive. Sometimes he welcomed the challenge. As Minnie sputtered excuses, he picked up his walking stick and brought himself up. It took two and a half steps to approach Minnie, and when he stopped, it was his turn to study her. He cupped his chin, nodded once, and then used his walking stick to lift her dress – just a bit, to see her ankles.

Minnie was a new goddess, and a new life in general, but even she had the faint notion that this wasn't something done between man and woman on a first meeting. She froze, her cheeks becoming redder than the lava flowing from above. “Wh-wh-what are you doing?!” She was so shocked it didn't occur to actually stop him.

“Lookin', what's it look like I'm doin'?” Mickey answered coolly, oblivious to how this appeared. “See, you don't need anklets. You're the type to wear dresses that cover your legs, so it'd either get tangled or ignored. Even if you did, people would look at your toes anyway, that's what would catch attention instead of an anklet.” He dropped her dress, and then seized her wrist in his hand, turning it over. “Hmmm...nope, you don't need a bracelet either. Got thin wrists, it'd irritate your hands.” He dropped her hand with ease, leaning back to scrutinize what was left. “No on the necklace. You're a modest gal, you wouldn't trust people's eyes there. Can't do earrings either, shape is all wrong. You'd have to use all that space to make an impact, that'd just be a hassle day by day.”

Minnie's disappointment grew with each well-meaning assessment – had she come all this way for nothing? What other way could she strike up a natural sounding conversation with him? Yet as Mickey squinted at her forehead, there was a glint in his eyes. “Do me a favor, lower your head. Just a bit.” Minnie obeyed, unsure what else to do, and waited as his eyes darted all around her forehead and between her ears. Finally, Mickey pounded the ground once with his stick. “A tiara!” he declared with a finger up. “That'll work just fine! Got plenty of space around there, so it can have hanging jewelry – no, seashells! I'm seein' seashells, and sea glass!”

He turned to his right, calling out, “Axelia!” To Minnie's continued confusion, only the one that had been working on a spear no one would use lifted her head. “Get three others and start work harvesting materials from the tides! I want results by tomorrow night.”

Minnie didn't wait for permission to pop her head back up, now elated beyond measure. Not only had the idea worked, but the very sound of this gift seemed delightful, and she could feel it already sitting atop of her head. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I would love a tiara! Thank you, thank you!” She practically skipped up to him, ready to give him one of her classic hugs and he clearly hadn’t expected her to get any closer – he scooted back as far as his awkward leg would allow, blinking rapidly and his cheeks coloring. Minnie stopped, and there was a stiff pause between them, the two of them unsure of what the other's attitude meant.

After a soft swallow, Minnie dared to start things up again. “Is there anything I can give you as payment? I have a lot of treasures myself.” Every day her throne was filled to the brim thanks to admirers who had only caught a glance of her.

Mickey’s mind jumped – for the first time in his life he was physically attracted to someone, so the _idea_ of payment from her gave him all sorts of images - he bit the inside of his cheek to stop it. “Aw, I don’t need nothin’. I got everythin’ I need here, who could ask for anythin’ more?” He shrugged the offer away dismissively, telling himself if he had asked for a kiss on the cheek, either she would have thrown him into the lava, or he'd have jumped in himself. “Might take a few weeks, I got a bunch of other orders to do. Can't just push you to the head of the line.” Speaking of that, he decided his personal project could wait. He waved for the nearest Axelia to pick it up to stow away, and have it replaced with an unfinished necklace.

“That’s very kind of you,” Minnie kept smiling, and soon he smiled too. Some of the other Axelias had stopped what they were doing to watch them. The two mice held a very long gaze that made Mickey feel as if he was shrinking, while Minnie was deciding some things for herself.

Mickey took a breath, and then turned away from her, hitching his shoulders up. “Guess I better get started.” That would be the signal for her to leave, and he picked up his hammer. It would be a very interesting couple of weeks, he knew it, as he waited for her to come back and marvel at what she had made him. He was already picturing the tiara – blue with streaks of the sea – but when he lifted his hammer, he heard his bench creak, and saw in the corner of his eye that Minnie was now sitting next to him. She was close enough that he could feel her dress on his good leg.

Mickey awkwardly kept his arm up, staring at her. “…You forget somethin’?”

“No,” Minnie had her hands in her lap, with that ever present smile on her face. “I wanted to watch you make it. Do you mind?”

Whenever Mickey had tried to discuss how he made his projects for his family in the sea, he could see their eyes glaze over in boredom, and in seconds they'd be trying to change the subject. He couldn't blame them. No one could understand or see the same fun and excitement he did when he was crafting. To others, it was long tedious work. To him, it wasn’t work – it was his reason to be. He still held his arm up, perhaps forgetting it was even there. “I…uh…well… i-it ain’t any fun-I mean, for yourself, wouldn’t be any fun… and you’d just get all dirty.” Even now, the ends of her dress were starting to blacken in grime and dust.

“Please, can I watch?” Minnie knew a bat of her eyelashes tended to make things go her way, as they were doing now. Normally this would annoy her, as it meant no one was paying attention or even thinking about why she was asking what she asked. But only for him did she employ the full powers of her beauty, watching his heart flip-flop in his eyes, telling herself it'd be just this once to get her foot in the door. “If you’ll let me, I’d really like to learn.”

His hand shook, but it finally came down, banging his hammer against the hardening project on the anvil. “D-do what ya want,” he finally managed to stutter out. “I ain't gunna tell ya whatcha can do, no sir…” he mumbled as he kept hitting the copper, very aware of Minnie leaning on him. Surely she'd get tired of this in no time. “This, uh... this here's copper. It's good stuff to work with. You can use it right away instead of havin' to extract it from ore. Doesn't react to water, which is another bonus, especially when you're makin' stuff for folks who live in water.”

“What does that mean?”

Mickey, again, found himself at a loss for words and stopped what he was doing. The question itself was simple and he could answer it in his sleep. But the existence of the question meant not only was she was listening, she was interested in what he had to say. He was, for one of the few if not first times in his life, having a fair back and forth conversation. “Uh. Well. It has to do with rust. A lot of metals rust, that's when they get exposed to air or water or other things and turn color, sometimes turning brittle.” Minnie asked for an example, and he spoke of iron, of both its useable qualities and its small annoyances. Then they were back to copper, then to tin and bronze, going to minerals like azurite and turquoise, what elements worked together, and for each new fact Minnie had a new question.

It was one of the best conversations either of them had ever had in their lives. Minnie didn't feel like an idiot for not knowing these things, because Mickey was patient and calm, happy to tell what he spent his life on. Mickey lost some of his stutter as he was allowed to gush about designs for weapons he couldn't use – the giant yellow thing had been deemed a “lightning bolt”, part of a security system that he admitted he had no need for since no one was after him. He showed her how heat allowed him to twist metal and glass to his whim, and she praised his cleverness while hoping he wouldn't burn himself. She learned his favorite color was orange – a hazy, setting sun orange, to be exact.

Mickey offered her his ideas and she was allowed to give her opinion on what worked and what didn't. He took them in stride, thanking her for her honesty, and she asked, asked, asked, and he answered, answered, answered, and they were happy. Hours passed, which meant nothing to a goddess, but it did mean something to a god that was immortal in youth but not in spirit. His words began to jumble and his eyelids drooped. It wasn't until he yawned for the third time in a row before he put down his tools. “Sheesh! I dunno what you're made of, Minnie, but I need to get some shut-eye.”

“Oh!” That's right, there was supposed to be something off about him, like his leg, but Minnie had completely forgotten. Didn't Daisy mention it during Minnie's first lovestruck stupor? Something about ambrosia – she'd have to catch up with Daisy about that. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up. I just lost track of time, this was so much fun!”

Mickey chuckled, finding he couldn't disagree. “Gotta admit, this was different. Wasn't so bad.” He'd been so pleased by the entire day's affairs that he never got around to asking what she was – and decided it really didn't matter. He picked up his walking stick, and stumbled to get around his work bench, his left leg dragging on the floor.

Minnie sprang to her feet, trying to take his arm. “Here, let me help you!”

The affectionate aura between them was abruptly interrupted when Mickey sharply pulled his arm back, clutching his stick. “No! That's...No, I don't need help.” His cutting voice rolled into a mumble, eyes moving down. It wasn't as if he had forgotten his leg, merely that it wasn't important in those flying hours. But now it was important, and he was a hideous, malformed reject, and he would not take pity about it – even if he wasn't correctly identifying what was pity and what wasn't. But he still wouldn't have it, not even from a pretty girl who had made him feel less alone for one day. “I've never needed anyone's help, not in years. Just...just remember that.”

As Mickey hobbled his way to his room, Minnie was utterly baffled – what in those few seconds had she done wrong? Did five words destroy a wonderful moment? “I...I didn't mean...I'm sorry.” Even if she had no idea what she was apologizing for, it came. “Can I still come back tomorrow?”

For the last time that day, Mickey paused due to bewilderment. He gradually turned back to look at her, wondering if he'd heard right. “Huh?”

“I said, 'can I still come back tomorrow?'” Her hands were knotted together, pleading and expecting. She thought she had insulted him again, but Mickey honestly didn't think she'd want to come back until her tiara was ready. “I promise, I won't help you at all! Can I still come? Can we still talk? Can I still ask you things?”

Still, still, still, as if she'd been expecting to come back all along and this was merely a sidestep! Mickey didn't know anything about love – it was as foreign to him as most manners – but he did know happiness, and that bubbled in his throat like fresh seafoam. He covered his mouth with the back of his palm as if that would stop the silly looking smile from appearing. He had to force his voice to sound masculine, which was difficult for someone naturally squeaky. “L-L-Like I said before, I ain't gunna tell ya whatcha can do.”

Minnie took this as a positive, and she jumped with a hard clap. “Oh, thank you, Mickey!” She would've tried to hug him again, but she didn't want to risk upsetting him again – which was a shame because he would've welcomed it this time. “I'll be here bright and early, with lots and lots of questions! I want to know all about sea glass!” How did mortals end these things? Ah, yes! She curtsied again, “Goodnight, Mickey!” And flounced down the cave's entrance, each step merrier than the last, humming a made-up song of serene notes.

Mickey raised an eyebrow as he watched the girl until he could no longer see her. Were girls, not made of scales and screws, all like her, or was she weird all on her own? Not that this was a bad thing. He stayed there a moment longer, and then went to bed, though sleep didn't come for a while. He laid on his sheets, hands on his chest, saying her name over and over – he feared if this all really had been a dream, he'd forget with sunrise, so he hoped that by repeating her name he'd never forget.

Minnie, Minnie, Minnie - he had a thousand questions of his own to ask, but felt he had no right. Maybe in time she would tell him without his prodding. Maybe, maybe, maybe, Minnie, Minnie, Minnie – and he fell into a deep, blissful sleep.

~*~

Minnie could sleep whenever she wanted, but now she was far too excited to do it – she felt as if she would never sleep again! He enjoyed her company! He answered her questions! If only there was a way to make everyone feel the way she felt now! Of course, no one on Mount Olympus would understand, and Minnie often found Daisy by schedule or sheer luck. Minnie needed to express this somehow, someway, and as she danced through villages, spreading her glee unknowingly – many mortals that night would wind up having soothing dreams of their special someone – she remembered that she owed part of this joy to Goofy, and it was high time to pay him back.

Sadly it was the middle of the night, and Minnie knew it would be rude to awaken him for this joyous news just yet. But he had to be rewarded, and as she let himself in his quiet house, she saw the statues and thought of Axelia – a statue that could move, made by Mickey's hands and will. Minnie looked her at her small hands, so tiny and often helpless – but Mickey was tiny too and he had done incredible things.

Minnie wound up in front of the sad statue of Millicent, forever lost to the sea and forever reminding Goofy of his lost love. The goddess gazed at her with a new expression – perhaps, she too, could create.

~*~

Goofy's morning routine was mostly the same every day. He would tumble out of his makeshift bed, say good morning to his statue of Millie, she'd say good morning back, he'd find a way to the kitchen, eat a modest meal, and then go into town to either make money or find inspiration. As he began cutting his bread for breakfast, he thought about his point-by-point schedule.

 _Maybe I ought to change things up_ , he pondered, _so I can find me some inspiration. Do something new. Every day I do the same ol' things. I get out of bed, say hello to Millie, she says hi back, I go to the kitchen, I -_

Goofy's hand halted mid-cut. Something about that train of thought didn't seem right. He went through it again. _I get out of bed, say hello to Millie, she says hi back, I -_

_She...SHE SAYS HI BACK?!_

Dropping the knife, Goofy ran back to his bedroom, which wasn't easy since he had to slide and shift among his many differently shaped artworks. He fell into his bedroom, and when he sat up, there stood a black furred poodle folding his bedsheets and fluffing his pillow. When she finished and saw him, she smoothed down her dress and smiled at him. “Did you forget something, Goofy?”

To Goofy's credit, he did do something new that morning. For the first time in his morning routine, he fell over in a dead faint.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big massive thank yous to my marvelous editors, Drucilla and Blueshifted!
> 
> I feel like this chapter is mostly filler. In between the horrifying sadness, anyway.
> 
> This storyline troubled me for years, in that I couldn't find a way to do the Pygmalion plot with Goofy without making it really creepy. Then it hit me - explore and explain the creepiness!

Goofy had been a young man when he lost his lady love, although in such ancient times, twenty was a perfect age for marriage. He'd lost his own parents years before, but had been able to pull through thanks to Millicent's tender love and care. When she died, he felt as if a part of him had died with her. Even now with Goofy in his forties, the pain lingered like a fresh wound. He longed to see her again with every beat of his heart.

But longing didn't make miracles, so when he regained consciousness and saw his formerly dead sweetheart kneeling at his side patiently, it was almost enough to knock him out again. He wasn't particularly knowledgeable about many things in the world, but even he knew that the dead stayed dead, simple as that. He opened his eyes again, and she was still there.

“Does your head hurt?” the girl asked, hands on her thighs, cocking her head to see if a lump had formed on top of Goofy's skull – it was difficult to tell since his head was naturally bumpy. “Your head hit the floor really hard.”

He didn't speak at first – more accurately, he didn't possess the words to fit what was going through his heart and mind. Fear tried to freeze the blood in his veins, knowing something had gone against the very will of nature, yet unbridled happiness would melt it away because she was there and she was alive and what could be wrong with that? He heaved as he forced himself to sit up, hot tears blurring his vision. “Millie?” His voice cracked like glass, terrified and joyous, scared and elated. “Is... is it really...you?” His trembling hands reached out to cup her cheeks – cheeks that were warm, of fur and skin and flesh, and a sob escaped his throat. She hadn't aged a day since that fateful one decades past, looking the same as she did before she went on that deadly voyage.

“Well, who else would I be?” she replied, chuckling softly at his reaction, allowing his hands to do as they pleased. “Honestly, Goofy, you ask the silliest questions. You'd better expect some very silly answers.”

Goofy yanked Millie into his arms, his face becoming a wet embarrassment. “Millie!” It was nearly a howl of agony, all the years of pain released into this very moment. He wept her name over and over until it was a jumble of incomprehensible letters, and he didn't care if the entire village went up in flames so long as this time would never end. Millie, for her part, made no effort to wipe away his tears, as she figured they wouldn't stop for a while. She simply rested her head on his shoulder, her fingers curling against the shabbily made necklace that hung from her neck.

“I've missed you,” Goofy managed to speak in between hard breaths. “I never stopped thinkin' about you, all these years...I wanted you back every single day.”

“What do you mean, you silly goof? I've been here for a long time.”

The sculptor's eyes snapped open, a sudden and terrible realization out on the horizon. He wanted to believe she meant something sappy, like she'd been in his heart all along. He untangled his arms from around her thin body, pulling back enough to stare at her cheerful face. “Wh-whaddya mean? Whaddya mean you've been here for a long time?”

“You must have hit your hard much harder than I thought,” Millie quipped, still strangely peaceful despite all the sobs and screams. She lifted her hand and pointed to where the statue of her once stood – and stood no more. “I've been right there for years. Don't you remember? You say hello to me every morning and dust me off once a week.”

Now fear won out and Goofy's very soul felt as if it had become encased in ice. His fingers trembled, and for once he wished he really was as stupid as everyone believed he was, so he wouldn't have to understand what was happening. “M-Millie...What...what was your father's name?”

The poodle paused, her pretty eyes bouncing back and forth in contemplation. After a brief moment she merely shrugged. “I don't know. I don't think you've mentioned him.”

Bile began to rise in Goofy's throat, and now he could no longer control himself. He shoved Millie off of his lap, and she rolled over with a startled cry. “Who are you?” He scrambled to his feet, pressing himself to the wall, as if he was corned by a monstrosity that had come from a place he dared not imagine. “You're not Millie! _Who are you?!_ ”

Millie – the girl – whoever she was – _whatever_ she was – slowly rose up, her once pleased face now wrinkled with confusion. “But you've always called me Millie. Isn't that who I am?”

“No!” Everything inside of Goofy hurt, but before he could even try to rationalize anything, his eyes found the necklace. A hot rage blinded him, that wound of memories now bleeding and raw. “That's not yours! Take that off! THAT'S NOT YOURS!” His hand lashed out, grabbing the necklace and snatching it off her neck, scratching the girl's neck with two harsh cuts. He was about to demand how she thought she could wear this, how much pain she planned to inflict upon him, but the girl was whimpering now, touching the injuries where spots of blood began to prickle. It was her first time experiencing pain, of many varieties. Guilt lowered Goofy's arm. “I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...”

She began to open her mouth, but Goofy knew he wouldn't be able to handle any more words. “I can't, I'm sorry, I can't... I gotta... I gotta...” Without any further explanation than that, he fled from the room, the destroyed necklace still in his hand. He burst from his house, unsure of where to go but he had to get away from there. He ran and ran and ran, confusing his neighbors when he didn't even try to say good morning. He ran until his legs gave out, letting him collapse in a patch of dry grass, not caring who, if anyone, saw him retch and cry like a sick child.

As for the girl who wasn't Millie, she was at a complete loss what to do. She sat there for a time, rubbing her sore neck, trying and failing to understand what his words had meant. Eventually she began to imitate what she would see Goofy do on a normal day – dust off his statues, make his bed, and have breakfast. She ate and ate and ate until she experienced her first stomachache, and as she sat on the dirty floor, licking an apple core between her sticky fingers, she wondered how she would, in Aphrodite's words, “Heal Goofy's heart”.

Regardless of how much pain anyone was in, the day went on, as time always does in its unforgiving and relentless way.

~*~

As Minnie had promised, she came back to Mickey's cave the very next morning. He'd still had lingering doubts she would come, but just in case, he took the longest bath he ever had. It was worth it, as she flounced into the cave without Axelia's assistance as if the place was her second home. Like day one, she asked question upon question and he gave answer upon answer.

One of those questions involved a map she was allowed to take from his wall. “Where is this?” she asked, spreading it out on the floor as Mickey hammered away, breaking up ores to find the precious minerals and stones inside.

“The coast of Izmir.” Mickey paused briefly in his work to make sure he was remembering it right. “I think. That's what the girls say, anyway.” He resumed his smashing, bits of broken rock spitting back at him. “Sometimes if I have a free day, I'll ask them to describe coasts and shorelines of other places, so I can try to draw 'em.”

Minnie lifted her head, her hands still flat on the map. “Why don't you just go to these places to see if you got them right? You're a god, aren't you? You can go anywhere you want with just a thought.”

“Aw, what do I need with other places?” He rolled his shoulder, letting the past where he did in fact long to go to those places slide down his back to be forgotten. “I got everything I need right here: Food, friends, and a furnace. Can't ask for anythin' else.”

Minnie pouted, her cute cheeks puffing out. He was a stubborn one when he wanted to be. As much as she wanted to tell him about her accomplishment with the statue, she felt it wasn't right to divulge anything about herself as long as she was keeping her name a secret. Besides, there was much more to learn about him. Maybe once she learned absolutely everything about him, she could even the score and tell him the truth. Maybe.

“Asking and wanting are two different things,” Minnie said after she placed the map back on the wall. “I bet you've wanted a lot of things!”

Mickey snorted, not bothering to raise his head as he answered. “Y'think you know me so well already? This is just day two, missy. If I say there's nothin' I want, then there's nothin' I want. What makes you think you know me better than I know yourself?”

“Because everyone wants something! It's part of what makes us who we are.” Minnie skipped to his work bench, plopping herself down beside him. “There are a lot of things I want every day. A beautiful sun in the sky, a new friend to make, and to learn lots of things I didn't know before.” She then grabbed his arm to force him to look at her, though it really didn't take that much. “Are you honestly telling me, right here and right now, there's absolutely nothing you want?”

If Mickey didn't know any better he'd swear she was implying something else, and his cheeks reddened. Of course there were things he wanted, but wanting was foolish when you would never get your desires. In the end, it only caused suffering. However, this strange feminine beauty gazing intently at him for reasons he couldn't fathom was suffering in its own way. A girl like this could kill a better man, with those gorgeous eyes of hers that – “Hey!” he realized, much to his relief to have a distraction, “Did you know your eyes change color?”

Minnie blinked rapidly, her train of thought now on a different track. “Huh? They do?”

“I think so! They were red before – now they're like, kinda orange. I dunno... Hey, Axelia!”

The Axelia he called for had been organizing his blueprints, but she stopped abruptly upon command. She walked over, arms straight at her side, waiting for further instructions. Mickey placed his hammer aside, grabbed Minnie by the shoulders with both hands, and turned her around. “What color are Minnie's eyes?”

Axelia craned her golden neck at Minnie, and the answer came in seconds. “They-Are-Black-Black-Black.”

Mickey laughed in amusement, and instead of taking up his tool again, he reached for his walking stick. “I ain't ever heard of any mortal, myth, or creature that can change their eye color! How come you didn't know you could do that?”

Minnie slid off the work bench and smoothed down her dress, although as usual there wasn't a single wrinkle to be found. “I guess everyone assumed I already knew. Now it makes me want to ask everyone I know what color my eyes are!” She giggled, wondering if Daisy saw the colors of the garden or the colors of her husband's gaze. “Didn't you say orange was your favorite color?”

“Sure did.” Though it begged the question why it had been red before – and why, on their first meeting, he'd seen blue. But if Minnie didn't even realize her eyes changed color, then it would be useless to ask her the reasons behind it. “C'mon, I want to show you to the girls. Bet they'll get a real hoot out of this.” He began to chuckle again, already imagining them squeaking like dolphins at Minnie's eyes. Maybe Minnie was something nautical like them.

As Mickey placed his walking stick under his left arm and began to hobble along, Minnie had to physically stop herself from trying to help him along. If he could create women of gold, beautiful jewelry, and weapons designed for others, why did he settle for a mere stick for disability? She tilted her head as she watched him. “Mickey, has your leg always been like that?”

Mickey stopped, though his eyes instinctively went to his twisted limb. He supposed she was bound to ask eventually, since it was his worst feature and biggest shame. “Yep. Can't move it, and can't feel most of it.” He waited to hear the inevitable follow up questions – _Can't you fix it? Can't you make it work? Doesn't it bother you? Why is it like that? Why don't other gods look like that_ \- 

“Are you ticklish there?”

“No.” Wait. What? Mickey turned his head, and Minnie was at his side, all smiles and sunshine as always. “Huh?”

“Well, you mentioned seeing the girls, and I figured they've probably tried to tickle you all over before. I don't even know if I'm ticklish.” Her hands were knotted behind her back, keeping slowly with Mickey's pace as they made their way forward together. “The mermaids, the nereids...They're like your family, right?” If they were Mickey's friends and family, then she had to become their friends and family too.

Mickey wondered if he'd ever understand how Minnie's mind worked. “Ah, um, yeah. They raised me since I was a little guy. Mermaids taught me how to talk, nereids taught me how to walk. They fed me and took care of me until I could do it myself.” Though they were headed for the sunlight, Mickey's eyes stayed down, thinking of saltwater days when the girls would lay on the sand with him, holding him until he went to sleep. “I know folks think they're a bunch of dummies...but they've got good hearts. They didn't have to keep me. Makin' 'em feel prettier is the least I can do repay 'em. So – so go easy on 'em if they bother you, all right?”

Mickey thought he was simply saying the facts as they were, but Minnie could hear the depths of his appreciation and care with every sentence. The same could be said of his gifts – they were only so breathtaking because he put genuine love into each craft, trying to say with metal what he couldn't express in words. “Of course, Mickey. I would be honored to meet your precious family.”

He almost asked why, but didn't. They walked around the sharp rocks, sat upon the sandy cliffside, and Mickey taught Minnie his special whistle to summon his companions – two fingers, pinky down, sharp breath. Minnie was still practicing when bubbles began to pop up underneath their feet, followed by giggling and splashing. Once again, as had happened more times than Minnie could count, the women froze momentarily as they got an eyeful of the goddess of beauty. She waved and spoke to knock them out of their shock. “Hello, everyone! It's very nice to meet you all.”

Mickey cleared his throat and straightened his back. “All right, everyone, this here's Minnie. You treat her nice, understand? Cause I brought her here for a fun game.”

“Game, game, game, I love playing games!”  
“I want to play a game with pretty Minnie!”  
“I'm the best at playing games and being pretty!”

“Okay, good! All you gotta do is answer one question.” Mickey gestured towards Minnie's face, making sure not to block their view. “What color are her eyes?”

“Pink! I win!”  
“Where do you see pink? Her eyes are purple!”  
“They're green! Green, green, green!”

Perhaps Mickey had overestimated how gracious his girls would be, as instead of making it a fun guess, now they began to argue about who was right. They began to splash at each other, tugging on hair and taking sides. “Hey, hey, hey! Calm down!” He grabbed his walking stick, intending to physically split apart those he could, but when his back was turned, he heard Minnie give out a surprised “Oh!” followed by a splash.

Color drained from his face – he wanted to impress his mermaids and nereids, and now he was making a horrible impression on his new friend. “Minnie!” He whipped around, but it was too late. She'd been captured by the gaggle of girls, so one could clearly show the other Minnie's eye color. Minnie herself was unharmed, blinking away water from her eyelashes. Mickey was imagining a thousand scenarios, most of them winding up with a frustrated Minnie storming off after being humiliated and never turning up on the island again. “You – you – you fish heads! You let her go!” He waved his walking stick at them, but this was as far as he could go. With his leg the way it was, he couldn't swim.

Yet Minnie wasn't as helpless as everyone tended to think. With a smirk curling on her lips, she clapped her hands once. “Everybody wins!”

A beat of silence overcame the school of fish friends, and then an eruption of celebration squealed forth, with clapping and spinning and singing.

“I win, I win, I win!”  
“I won too!”  
“This was the best game ever!”

With that miniature crisis over, Minnie flashed a sporting grin at her companion, but Mickey still wasn't relieved. He offered her a hand, and while she took it, she didn't pull herself out of the water. “Aw, Minnie, I, I'm so sorry! I thought they'd be better behaved than this!”

“Oh, Mickey, relax!” She squeezed his hand before letting go, letting herself float on her back. “You just have to know how to talk to them. I guess I know you and your girls better than you do after all!”

Mickey's eyes narrowed, taking the challenge. “You think so?” This girl was nuts, bonkers, and absolutely off the wall. What a nice change from his predictable lifestyle. He found a smile forming on his mouth, and he twirled his stick in the air. “Say, ladies! Minnie here doesn't know where she's ticklish!”

Minnie's eyes widened. “You wouldn't dare.”

He dared. “Why don't you all be a bunch of good girls and help her find out?” In seconds Minnie was mobbed by eager fingers and screeching laughter. It was also nice to have someone else be a target for once. Even this didn't frighten Minnie away, as she tried to return the favor and tickle back her assailants. The game eventually grew boring for some of the elders, who now wanted to dress Minnie up in pearls and seaweed, which she allowed as long as they introduced themselves.

Mickey watched without comment, chewing on his lower lip. A part of him thought that maybe, perhaps, he'd been trying to see if she would be driven away by his nautical allies – almost counting on it, because she would be driven away eventually, inevitably. She would find a reason to leave as soon as her tiara was completed. His mind worked to excuse what he saw – so, fine, she liked mermaids and nereids, but you could find them on any shore, and the world was a big place. If she wanted their company, she could go anywhere she wanted.

She _would_ leave him. That was a fact. Minnie was kissing the foreheads of the younger mermaids and allowing an older nereid to play with her spitcurls. When they tried to give her the trinkets Mickey had made for them, she politely declined, insisting it looked much better on them. “And I wouldn't want to take away anything your dear brother gave you.”

“Brother?” The nereid adorned with green coral repeated, looking at her sisters and aunts and mothers for help. “I don't have a brother. Do I have a brother?”

Mickey raised his hand. “I think she means me.”

“Mickey's not my brother. Mickey is Mickey!”  
“Mickey's not our brother or cousin or uncle or father because those are all boring.”  
“We have a Mickey, and no one else has a Mickey, so we're the best.”  
“Best Mickey, best Mickey, best Mickey!”

Minnie quietly glanced at Mickey, thinking she might see a hurt or pained expression, but instead he was just rolling his eyes with a knowing smile. This was not like the traditional families she saw on the mortal plane, with a pair of mothers and fathers and a set number of children. This was a family of choice, but still a family nonetheless. In their forgetful ways, they latched onto the new topic of conversation by showering Mickey with compliments and requests for more pretty accessories, playing keep away with his walking stick but being sure to never break it. With a bit more personal space now around her, Minnie swam back to the cliffside and tried to climb back up.

“I'm sorry,” Mickey mumbled, not making eye contact with her.

“About what?” Minnie asked as she began to squeeze water out of her dress.

“Y'know, them! I should've figured they'd pull some kinda stunt. They're not that bad, normally, I swear.”

“Mickey-”

“It's just - they can't help it, okay? That's what they are. I've tried teachin' 'em, but it's hard, cause they don't wanna learn.”

“Mickey-”

“You can't just snap your fingers and make seagulls change the color of their feathers, and it's like with them, you can't expect too much, you can't-”

Minnie pushed her palm against his mouth in a quick attempt to shush him. “Mickey. You don't have to make excuses for them.”

“Mmmmf?” Mickey asked, which roughly translated to “Really?”

“Yes, really. I like them. I like you. I like being here. Now will you please relax?” She made him nod by pushing his head back down, and then pulled her hand back, poking him on the nose afterward. “You don't have to apologize for them like that. Just tell me about them. Please.”

Mickey almost asked if she was entirely sure, absolutely sure, but she was giving him that funny, intense gaze again. He sucked on the inside of his cheek, trying to make himself calm down and do what she had so kindly asked. He had been ready to both defend and excuse his beach beauties much like he had felt he needed to both defend and excuse his entire being. He knew their reputation across the lands – and that it wasn't entirely unjustified – but they were his, and if no one would accept them, then good riddance to those jerks. But she was accepting them.

She was accepting of a lot of things.

Mickey cleared his throat. “Fine, then, you better pay attention, cause I'm not going to go through everyone a second time.” His eyes found the nearest girl, and he motioned to her with a point. “That there is Lydia.” Upon being named, a raven haired nereid swam forward, returning his walking stick and getting an affectionate pat on the head in return. “She's Tallia's little sister. She likes to wear things that make a lot of noise.” So evidenced by dangling hooped earrings that clinked whenever she moved her head.

“It's nice to meet you, Lydia.” Minnie placed her hands on her lap, leaning forward. “Why do you like making a lot of noise?”

“Because then it's really hard to ignore me!” Lydia yelled giddily, clapping her hands as hard as she could.

“Very well, then I will never ignore you.” She moved to flick Lydia's earrings, making them clink and clank back and forth, and Lydia kicked in the water, thrilled to bits. Mickey then introduced her older sister Tallia, then Aquata, then Calista, Andria, Rydia, one after the after, telling them how they were related, what treasures they desired, favorite moments out on the sea, who could imitate a dolphin's call, the best backflipper, so on and so forth. With each meeting, Minnie made sure to do more than greet them – she interacted, she asked questions, she complimented. She made an effort to remember each and every single one of them, which to a newcomer was no easy task. It helped that she genuinely adored them, and found them like children with grown bodies. It was, she imagined, like a new mother being introduced to the young ones of her new beau.

Having children with Mickey - wasn't that a lovely spot of fantasy! Though she had tried to tell herself that she couldn't really love Mickey without knowing all about him, her mind didn't get the message, happily wandering off to see Minnie holding a newborn with the beautiful features of both parents while Mickey was hard at work making a crib.

The parental paradise was unknowingly interrupted as Mickey kept going with, “And this is Damara.”

Damara – Damara – where had she heard that name before? Minnie slowly moved her eyes over, and her paradise turned to panic. This was indeed the exact same mermaid who, to her words, met someone who could have been Aphrodite. Had she been so caught up in romantic fantasies that this chance meeting never occurred to her? Mickey was saying something or other about how Damara liked to play pranks on mortals, despite Mickey's lectures about not doing that. But Minnie and Damara were looking right at each other, with Damara blinking at Minnie, clearly recalling a moment.

Sweat broke out on Minnie's face – she hadn't told this one her original name, right? She was so overcome with worry that her mind went blank and she couldn't remember anything. As Damara tilted her head, Minnie silently hoped that this particular mermaid didn't have a good memory and was as smart as a wad of seaweed. Mickey was oblivious to Minnie's panic attack, too focused on the mermaid in front of him. “Hey now, be polite! Don't just stare, say somethin'. Be nice.”

So Damara spoke, tugging on the ends of Minnie's dress. “Have we met somewhere before?”

“Ummm,” Minnie drew out the word, adding more “m”s in a hard attempt at thinking. So far she had never technically lied to Mickey, she had only left out certain details. But if she actually denied Damara's words, that would be a lie for real, and Minnie would be a terrible person for it. If she could help it, she would not lie to her dear Mickey or his precious family. “Yes. We have.” She winced as she spoke, her chest feeling tight.

“I knew it!” Damara clapped in victory, her head bouncing back left and right. “I knew it, I knew it! She's the one I was telling you about when I broke that “No Aphrodrite” rule!”

“You broke it again!” said a mermaid with skin as dark as night.

“I did not! I'm not talking about Aphrodite, I'm talking about a girl that could be as pretty as Aphrodite! If I was breaking the rule, I'd be saying she was Aphrodite, but she's not Aphrodite, she's Minnie, Mickey said so! I'm not breaking the rule, so I'm a good girl!”

Mickey ran a tired hand down his face. “I'm thinkin' I need to reword that rule a little. Did you have a point somewhere in there?”

This required another twenty seconds of deep thought for Damara who ultimately concluded, “Your girlfriend is very pretty.”

Just like that, Mickey and Minnie switched moods. Minnie was calm and relaxed, whereas Mickey broke into alarm. “G-G-Girlfriend?! What are you – you – you girls are as dumb as rocks, is what you are! New rule! No saying that word! And no embarrassing me!” He swiftly turned to Minnie who was smiling adorably from ear to ear. “Well – I – you said – you said not to make excuses or apologize, so, so, so I won't! But! Y'know! That's...they don't know what they're sayin'.”

“I am a girl,” Minnie pointed out, scooting in half an inch closer to Mickey's side. “And I am your friend. So, in a way, she's right.” She knew exactly what would come next, and enjoyed every second of it, even waving her finger about like a conductor's baton.

“I'm right, I'm right, I'm a smart girl!”  
“Wait! This means I'm Mickey's girlfriend too!”  
“We're all Mickey's girlfriends! Yay!”

Mickey wondered if his cheeks would ever return to their normal color again, as right now he couldn't stop blushing. He tried to muster up a glare at Minnie, but it was difficult. “You're enjoyin' this way too much.”

“I had to pay you back after you sent your tickle army after me.”

“Yeah, yeah, missy. You keep that up and I'll push you back in there.”

Minnie had no doubt that he would, and it all made her giggle the absurdness of everything hitting her at once. It was a contagious noise, and so to no great shock, Mickey also found himself laughing, needing to hold his stomach as it came harder and harder. Even though the mermaids and nereids didn't really get the joke, they laughed as well before they decided on more games and more questions to pester the pretty one with.

Later that day, Mickey would find another surprise – in that he spent much more time with the girls than usual that day. He wondered if Minnie's presence had anything to do with that. On a small level he was annoyed, as it meant he was now behind on all of his work, even if only by a few hours. Yet he couldn't say he'd change that day if he could. Having a second like-minded head in there made dealing with the girls a little easier. It was, dare say it, fun.

Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if it happened again, though he still believed it was a hard “if”. Perhaps some conversations were as entertaining, if not more, than working on his projects. Perhaps Minnie was the type to change things even without meaning to. Who knew? She was a mystery, but he was in no hurry to solve it. Like the mystery of why she looked at him so strangely – it was a way he'd never seen before, and so couldn't put a word to it. Maybe it was the way the rest of the world looked at each other.

Girlfriend, however – he ought to push Damara's bracelets back a week for that stupid remark. Why, he bet she didn't even know what the word meant, and was just trying it out. Mickey knew that word was not meant for him, and to dare imply anything about that in regards to Minnie was downright insulting to her. They were friends. Unusual friends, yes, but she was unusual. Once she had her gift, she'd leave, and things would go back to normal. Whatever normal meant.

So when he laid in bed that night, he told himself he didn't care if Minnie had a boyfriend (even though he definitely did) and that he didn't care if Minnie had a thousand boyfriends (even though he doubtlessly did) and that he'd never want her as a girlfriend in a million years (even though after that popped into his head, he couldn't go back to sleep.)

But with every shift he made under the sheets, he felt his twisted leg move, and with it came the reminder of who he was, what he was, and the future that had been laid out for him the second he was born.

Pretty girls don't become the girlfriends of rejects.

~*~

Hours before Mickey would go to bed and contemplate matters of the heart and how furiously he denied them, Goofy finally went back to his house. He hadn't eaten all day, and now his stomach matched how bad his head felt. He stood in front of his dilapidated house, afraid to enter and relive the horror of that morning. Yet he also knew he couldn't stay away forever. With a giant gulp, he walked inside and opened his mouth – but what could he call her? She wasn't Millie.

The girl in question was back in the bedroom, having recently discovered one doesn't eat orange peels. As she rubbed her belly, she looked up as Goofy stepped in, and they watched each other with frightened intensity. The broken necklace was still grasped in Goofy's hand.

Eventually Goofy began the investigation, moving to sit down on the floor across from her. “You were my statue.”

She nodded, rubbing her sore neck. The bleeding had been quick, and the tedious healing process has begun. “Until the other night, yes.” Her voice was quiet, unsure of what would spark his fury again.

“What happened the other night?”

“The goddess Aphrodite came to me.” She placed her hand on her heart as she remembered the moment, rubbing the area as feeling fur and skin was still a new and exciting threshold for her. “She told me I would heal your heart. She laid her hands here, and brought me to life.”

Had Goofy somehow offended the goddess and this was his punishment? Or had the divine woman honestly believed this was a righteous action? Now Goofy was afraid of going back to the temple, lest Aphrodite's next well-meaning intentions completely destroy his sanity. But what to do now? To pray to Aphrodite to send this woman back into her marble form seemed cruel. She had life now, and no one had any right to snuff away – though one could argue no one had any right to give it, either.

After a heavy sigh, Goofy decided, “You aren't Millie. You can't ever be Millie.”

“Then...” She sat on her knees, wanting to get closer but not within striking range. “Who am I?”

Wasn't that the question of the century! Goofy scratched his head, going over the possibilities. It was not within him to toss her out into the street and fend for herself, so, ultimately, she was now his responsibility. Feeding one stomach was already hard, but there must be people worse off than he was. Until this got resolved one way or the other, he would have to do the right thing. It wouldn't be easy, and for a second he wished he was a rotten fellow, someone who could ignore it all and do what made life simple for him. But he wasn't. He never would be.

“I suppose,” Goofy said, “Until you find a name you like better, we can always call you... Agalma.” It was the Greek word for statue. Names weren't his specialty, and he did feel a smidgen silly for simply calling her what she used to be. But what else could he do?

“Agalma,” she repeated, and then said it again, “Agalma!”, letting it work on her tongue, saying it three times more before being satisfied. “It'll take some getting used to. But I don't think it's so bad. I am Agalma.”

“And I am hungry.” Goofy could hear his stomach rumbling, and spotted the orange peel in Agalma's fingers. “You ate my oranges?”

“The insides are very good, but the outsides are awful.” Agalma stuck her tongue out, as if that'd get rid of the taste. “I'm still getting used to having tastebuds. Did you know we have a lot of tastebuds?”

Already there was a glaring difference between Millie and Agalma – Millie would have never eaten someone else's food without permission. If his mind wasn't so rattled he might have found it funny. “Guess I gotta go to the market. I think it's still open.” As he began to stand up, Agalma stood up with him. “And buy another bed, I figure.”

Agalma blinked. “Why can't we share this one?”

“Reasons.” He was in no mood to explain any further than that. “Gunna need to getcha some more clothes too.” This was going to drain every last coin he had. He was going to have to find a larger, more permanent source of income fast. “I'll be back as soon as I'm able.”

The woman dared to step in closer. “Can I come with you?”

Goofy looked at her, breathing quietly through his nostrils. Could she come with him? Should she? The world was a large place, and apparently she had a lot to learn, with only a clumsy fool as a teacher. What a pitiful girl. “Better now than never, I reckon.” He took her by the hand, and began to walk her back out of the house.

For the second time that month, the villagers stopped to stare as Goofy walked with a girl far more lovely looking than they believed he deserved. Once could be fought off as coincidence or circumstance, but twice was deliberate and gave them much to think about it. On the way to the marketplace, Goofy could see Aphrodite's temple, and the glimmer from within told him someone was burning an offering, of which he had only recently learned that is what one does with them, or had lit candles to welcome people inside. As a mortal, did he have any right to ask for a proper explanation from an all knowing and all mighty goddess?

He thought of Millie, of Daisy, of Minnie, and believed they'd make much better goddesses than Aphrodite. Yet he bought another crate of peaches, because in that kind tired soul of his, he saw it as a way to say he forgave her. She had made a mistake, and he knew all about making mistakes.

As for Agalma, despite all the pain and terror she'd experienced in that day, she also wanted to make an offer to Aphrodite. They weren't pleasant experiences, but they were still experiences, and it was better than feeling nothing at all. Even if things hadn't worked out as planned, she was alive, and that was the best gift of all. No life was a mistake, not hers, and not Goofy's.

The night was cold, and they held each other's hands tighter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my wonderful editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> See the light where the sky meets the sea, it calls me~ Hahaha, yeah, I'm amused that I chose a story that's deeply connected to the sea while Moana is a smash hit. But just how connected is Minnie and the others to the sea? You'll just have to see how far I'll go ;)
> 
> I'd like to thank some extra people for this chapter - my pals known as Zumi, Greta, LoneWolfPrincess, and Tsa. These duck fanatics really encouraged me to make this feathery chapter.

As much as Minnie wanted to devote every single second she had to learning about Mickey, she didn't want to neglect time with her dear friends. So on this crisp windy day as Daisy encouraged Minnie to follow her, holding her hand as they moved around thin trees and ignored wildlife. Of course, that didn't stop Minnie from speaking of Mickey, Mickey, Mickey - amazing Mickey, handsome Mickey, Mickey who loved his family and protected them with his words. Daisy could barely get a word in otherwise, but she found the puppy-love charming. Besides, Minnie was still new to many ways of the world, including the emotion she was supposedly in charge of. Maybe she'd calm down once she was used to it, so Daisy told herself.

When Daisy noticed Minnie pausing in her words, trying to exactly describe the adorable way Mickey's tongue stuck out when he worked on something that required delicate patience, she seized the chance to speak. “Today's going to be a special day for you and I.”

It did the trick and Minnie was instantly distracted, blinking rapidly to remind herself that, oh yeah, they were walking towards something instead of aimlessly wandering. “Huh? Why is that?”

“One way or another, you've become my friend, so you're going to have a privilege very few gods or goddesses know of.” Her beak tilted upwards, pride shown in boastful sunflowers trailing through her hair. “I know I can trust you not to tell anyone else, without my explicit permission.” She had a feeling that Minnie would try to get said permission to tell Mickey.

“What is it, what is it?” Minnie inched up closer to her friend, holding her entire arm in anticipation. “I won't tell a single soul, I promise!” A pause as Daisy awaited the expected. “Unless you'd say it's okay to tell Mickey. But I won't even tell him if you say no.”

“Good girl,” Daisy chuckled, a little embarrassed at how easily Minnie could push a smile onto Daisy's face. Daisy had distrusted others for so long that to have someone so casually take up a spot in her heart was confusing. She wanted to believe it was Minnie's sunny personality that won her over, but there was always that nagging worry far in the back of her mind – that perhaps Minnie was so beautiful, or that just by being the goddess of love, you had no choice except to love her. That worrisome thought was a smidgen louder today, in that only one other person knew of what she would show Minnie. “Watch your step, the shore is pretty steep here.”

“Shore?” Minnie slowed down their walk as their feet hit the sand. Daisy had said time and time again that coincidences didn't truly exist, and now Minnie was starting to believe it. Over and over Minnie found herself back at the sea – it was where she had emerged, where Goofy had lost his lady fair, where she learned of Mickey's existence and soon after discovered Mickey herself. Was there a deeper connection hiding in the waves? She almost didn't hear Daisy call after her – the demi-goddess of plants had let go of her hand to heartily run towards the water, and there was the special surprise.

Minnie was expecting something a bit more grand than a weathered old sailboat that sat halfway in the sand. There wasn't even a port for it to dock, and it lay wedged into the sand.Age hadn't been kind to this boat, with worn out sides and chipped white paint. The sails had been ripped and sewn back together more times than anyone could count, with different colors showing that the original cloth was long since gone. Yet Daisy raced toward it as if it was a beautiful treasure, running her hands along the bow as a noble woman would touch fine silk. “This is my most prized possession,” Daisy declared, turning around with her hands on her hips. “Mine and Donald's! And only you get to see it.”

“It's...got a lot of history.” It was the only compliment Minnie could conceive at the moment. If it was owned by divine beings, why was it in such shoddy shape? She knocked a tiny fist against the hull. “Which one of you made it?”

“Neither of us did,” Daisy said as she took Minnie by the shoulders and pushed her up the tiny ladder on the back. “This is a mortal-made ship. Donald bought it long ago under the guise of a mortal. He leaves it here for me so I can go sailing whenever I want. Now, sit there and wait!”

“Wait for what?” Minnie didn't get an answer as Daisy began to push and shove the boat – inch by inch, it began to retreat back into the water. Once it was submerged, Daisy jumped onto the ladder, and once she was inside her hands worked on pulleys and ropes to make the different parts of the boat move to her command. Minnie's skepticism vanished and was replaced by the awe of the boat's mechanisms and Daisy's mastery of the sails. The wind blew into the cloth, and the boat slowly began to move off into the distance, leaving a gradual wake behind. “We're moving!” Minnie squealed with delight, moving to dip her hands in the cold water as they continued to sail on.

The boat was very small, and probably wouldn't have been able to handle another two on its deck. It clearly wasn't meant for great voyages and heroic trips with adventure. It simply moved from one place to the next, but that was all the girls could ever want. Soon the sandy shore was but a glimpse on the horizon, and they were alone on the water, the wind in their hair. Daisy inhaled deeply, the salty scent of the sea finer than any fragrance. “The ocean is never the same each time you come to it,” she said, slowing down her furious activity now that the boat was capable of going ahead on its own. “And that's what we love about it. On Mount Olympus, things are never changing, and as gods, sometimes we don't change for centuries. But each time we wade into the water, there is something new to see. The fish will always move to a different place, and the sun will greet you in a different direction. Do you understand?”

Minnie did, or at last she thought she did. What she understood most of all was that Daisy deeply and truly loved her friend – this wasn't a rehearsed speech, but one made of passion, where she wanted Minnie involved her world. Minnie couldn't stop smiling, resisting the urge to hug her companion – she feared doing so would send them both into the water. “You know, I heard a man named Poseidon is in charge of the sea,” she brought up. “With the way you and Donald love it, maybe he should've been in charge instead.”

Daisy had her back to Minnie, but her shoulders lowered, and muscles began to clench up. “Yeah...if all was right and fair in the world, Donald would be the god of the ocean. That was all he wanted when they were playing for their roles.” Daisy knew Minnie would ask, and Minnie knew Daisy knew, so she didn't even bother asking and merely waited for the answer. “Centuries ago, Zeus, Poseidon, and Donald took down their tyrant of a father in order to free the world. Funny enough, he'd done the same to his father. I bet Zeus crosses his fingers every day hoping it won't be his turn next.” She shook her head to return to the subject at hand. “With him gone, there were three important roles to fill - ruler of the sea, ruler of the dead, and ruler of the gods. They didn't want to fight over it, so they left it to a game of dice.” A bitter chuckle. “To this day, I still believe they rigged it so Donald would have the one position the other two didn't want.”

Daisy began to turn around, and for once she seemed to be her true age, a worn down woman of decades long since past. “We all have our place in this world, but it shouldn't be decided for us. I worry about you a lot, Minnie. You had your titles thrust upon you, and you still don't even know where you came from, do you?”

Minnie slowly shook her head no. “The first memory I have is stepping out of that sea shell. There's nothing else.” By now she'd understood it made no sense, and that everyone came from somewhere. Yet she never bothered asking anyone upon Mount Olympus for answers, knowing that would be a fruitless endeavor.

“And you have those weeds-for-brains up on the mountain thinking you're everyone's girlfriend.” Daisy snorted, pacing up and down the ship's center. “You've been the biggest change they've had in years, and I fear for your future because of that.” She stopped, arms crossed, looking out on the still water. “I want to tell you a story, Minnie. You've probably already heard their version of it – how 'Hades' kidnapped me and now forces me to stay with him for half a year. I imagine to them it makes perfect sense. But that's not even remotely what happened.”

~*~

I guess the easiest place to begin this with would be about my mother, Demeter. She's the official goddess of plants, and you should see her work. Compared to her towering forests, I'm like a dandelion seed. She was one of the most beautiful and powerful goddesses on Mount Olympus, and all the men wanted a chance with her, Zeus included, and she let herself have some fun flings. But when she did fall in love, it was with a mortal man.

Now, it's not forbidden for gods and mortals to, well, enjoy each other's company. Zeus does it almost every day. But it's pretty much a bad idea to actually fall in love with one of them. Their life spans are incredibly small, especially compared to people like us who never age or die. Mother said she could handle it when he inevitably passed. Spoiler – she didn't. And it didn't help that he didn't even die of old age. A bunch of robbers broke into his place and killed him. Don't bother looking for tears on me, Minnie, I was still in the womb when this happened. I never knew the man.

Anyway, with him dead, Mother went nuts. First she blamed Donald, accusing him of taking away her husband on purpose because he was jealous of her happiness. Let me tell you right now, not only would Donald never kill anyone, he can't. He doesn't actually control death, he just keeps things organized in the Underworld. Every now and then he can try to bargain with the Sisters of Fate to keep someone alive longer, but it's always a risky gamble and never a guarantee. Not to mention Donald rarely visited the mountain in the first place. Not only does his work keep him busy, but they all treat him like a pariah. They assumed that because of his role, he must be gloomy and scary and depressing. They still assume that today.

Moving on. Out I came, and Mother went into full panic mode. She was afraid of losing me too, and never let me out of her sight. When I say never, Minnie, I mean never. For years I was forbidden to leave Mount Olympus, and I was like you for a while. I didn't know anything and no one bothered to tell me anything except what they thought was important. That's when I first learned about “Hades”, and all the stories about him. Like how he “laughed like a madman” when the dice rolled his way, and how he “stalks the souls of the living”, eager to have them die. I believed it all. Why wouldn't I, when no one would tell me different?

You know how dull Mount Olympus is. I was bored to tears, but I couldn't leave my mother's side. She decided what I ate, what I wore, even how I was supposed to sit on my throne. Then one day, she got this crazy notion that if I married one of the gods up there, I'd always be safe even when we wouldn't be together. I hated the idea, but my opinion meant squat. It was also a blessing in disguise, though, because while she was interviewing other gods to see who was worthy enough for my hand, it meant a chance to escape. So I headed right for the mortal plane, and just like you, I went wherever I felt like, learning everything I could.

Eventually I found that exact same shore you and I were just on. I saw this boat and thought it was absolute junk. I would have moved on, but that's when I saw a good looking guy – who I thought was a mortal - wrestling with the sailing rope, unable to undo a knot. Being the generous soul that I am, I offered to help him.

~*~

_“HAHAHAHAHA! WHAT KIND OF MORON DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO UNDO A KNOT?!” Daisy “forgot” to mention that being under Demeter's demented eye left her a tad spoiled. So her snotty superior attitude had her howling in laughter at Donald's failed attempt, and doubly so when Donald was so startled he fell into the water._

_If he wasn't flapping around in the water, Donald would have unwillingly poofed into his smoky form, but for now his temper wasn't as hot as it could have been. “Who're you calling a moron! I bet you don't know anything about sailing!”_

_“I'm pretty sure the first rule is not to go into the water!” Daisy cackled, holding her stomach due to how hard she was laughing._

_“Why you doggone stubborn little...” Donald marched out of the water, squeezing what he could out of his robes. “I only have so much free time today, and I ain't gunna waste it listening to you giggling like a hyena! Sailing comes with all kinds of different knots! Why, I bet you don't even know what that is!” He indignantly pointed at what Daisy thought was just the boat itself._

_“It's a boat, duh,” Daisy snorted as she tried to catch her breath._

_“Name that part of the boat,” Donald demanded, still pointing, water dripping from his beak. For the record, it was the rudder._

_“It's...the...boat part.” Oh, what did she care what some foolish mortal thought of her? She was born better than him anyway. “Whatever it is! It's a hideous thing anyway.”_

_“HEY! Nobody insults my baby and gets away with it!”_

_“I JUST DID!”_

_“YOU THINK YOU'RE SO SMART?!” He was seconds away from poofing at this point, but a wicked idea saved him from unknowingly revealing himself. Donald was also under the impression that this was a mortal woman, and while he didn't care about the rules of superiority and inferiority, he did care when people of any race dared to abuse his pride and joy. He suddenly scooped Daisy up into his arms – ignoring her shrieks and kicks – and tossed her onto the boat. “There, let's see you sail!”_

_Daisy was on her feet in seconds, snapping Venus fly traps curling in her hair. Donald might've taken notice if he wasn't so pleased by her furious reply. “How_ dare _you – do you have any idea who I am?!”_

_“Nope! Couldn't care less!” Donald grinned devilishly as he began to push the boat onto the water. “Go ahead, toots, try and make me pay for it – if you can get back here!”_

_“I – I will! And you'll be sorry!” Logically she could have teleported to his side and given him the walloping of a lifetime, but her dignity would be gone forever. How hard could sailing be? But now she was in the boat and actually looking at all the handles and pulleys and ropes, it was like staring into the jaws of a wild animal. She stuttered at a loss, aimlessly trying everything and getting nowhere fast. She wound up smacking herself with the boom, and getting tangled in the sails. “Get over here and help meee!” she whined, flailing her arms in a pathetic motion to free herself._

_“Apologize to my baby and I'll help you!”_

_“I AM NOT APOLOGIZING TO YOUR CRUDDY UGLY BOAT!”_

_“THEN STAY THERE FOREVER, SEE IF I CARE!”_

~*~

We didn't get off to a great start.

I got fed up and vanished back onto Mount Olympus, which was probably Donald's first clue that I wasn't mortal either. I told myself that being bored there was far better than dealing with a cranky, violent mortal. Mother hadn't noticed I was gone, though her candidates for marriage had narrowed down. As I stayed there, stewing over what had happened, I told myself that I could learn more about boats and prove myself better than that silly man with a weird voice. That was about the time I borrowed Mother's Viewing Mirror, and she never bothered to ask why I even wanted it. I had to admit, mortals could be really interesting. I told myself I was only looking to upset that man, and once I had accomplished my task, I'd never look again. But let's face it, compared to the same old parties up there, the eternally changing mortal plane was a book you could never put down.

The next time around I pushed my mother to distraction, asking her to make positively sure that Apollo was a worthy man for me. She was so delighted by me faking interest that she didn't even question it. So I headed back down to the same shore, but while the boat was there, he wasn't. Donald can't come up whenever he feels like it, he has to schedule time in advance. While I waited for him to make an appearance, I tried to test my newfound knowledge on his boat. But seeing someone else do it is worlds different than trying it for myself, and I wound up a mess all over again, tied up in ropes and sails without the boat ever leaving the sand. Even worse, he never showed up that day.

Day after day I waited for him, telling Mother about different gods that could be good protectors, even demi-gods from below or children Zeus had fathered. It was weeks before I finally saw him again, and I thought I was ready to show off my new skills.

~*~  
 _  
“You didn't attach the tack to its shackle.”_

_“SHUT UP! I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!”_

_“Well, whenever you get done with that, you have to pull the outhaul-”_

_“I'LL GET TO IT WHEN I GET TO IT!”_

_“I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU!”_

_“WHO ASKED FOR YOUR HELP!?”  
_  
~*~

By then we were kinda sure each other was a god and goddess, otherwise we wouldn't have survived the bruising we gave one another. It made me feel a touch better knowing that I wasn't losing to a mortal, but it still stung all the same. I wanted him to know how great I was, to acknowledge me as his better. Each time I would return to Mount Olympus, I would get praised on how pretty I was, but it felt...hollow. Like I hadn't done anything worthy of their compliments except exist. They couldn't praise my powers, since they were obviously weaker than my mother's, so my looks were all I had. Yeah, you know how that feels, don't you, Minnie?

But I wasn't totally hopeless, and I did manage to get better.

~*~  
 _  
“Watch your telltales. You're wasting energy like this, just let out the sail.”_

_“But if I do that, I'll have to let go, and you said to keep my hand steady!”_

_“I know what I said! Just – here, let me show you.”_

_“No! No! I can do it! I know I can do it.”  
_  
~*~

We wouldn't try to go anywhere in particular. Sometimes we'd just drift out onto the ocean and see the sun set. Other times we'd pass by mortal villages and watch fishermen take in their haul. Donald knew a lot of them by name, mostly because he knew their dead relatives, but I still didn't know “who” he was. It didn't really seem to matter. But in his head, he had his reasons not to tell me. If I'd known on day one that he was Hades, I would have run away screaming and never turned back. I told him easily enough that I was Persephone, that I was Daisy, that I was a useless daughter with no ambition save for a wedding ring. 

~*~  
 _  
After he heard that, Donald had taken her hand and turned the palm up. “It's a shame about the ambrosia,” he said, tsking. “Heals all of our wounds instantly, so you can't have the tough callouses the mortals have. They'd be proof enough that you've got more ambition than any of those lazy vagabonds up on the mountain.”_

_“Does that include all the bumps on my head I should've gotten every time the boom hit me? At that rate, I should've been the demi-goddess of concussions.” A tiny chuckle._

_“C'mon, I mean it. There's nothing wrong with not having an exact goal right now.” The boat was smoothly passing between two cliffs, a creaky bridge far above them. The night was approaching and glitters of stars dotted the sky. The wind was dying down for now, and they felt safe enough to sit. “One man might think he'll grow up to be a farmer, and becomes a soldier instead. Even gods and goddess should have the opportunity to at least look for what they want.”_

_Opportunity – what a foreign word. Daisy had thought that because she had the blood of a goddess flowing through her, that this was enough to justify her existence. But now she wasn't sure of a lot of things. She wanted worth in a different form, she wanted equality, and so many other things she never even knew existed before meeting Donald. She was quiet for a while. “I don't want to be like my mother, deciding things for someone else and being afraid of things we can't control.”_

_“Then don't be like her. Be yourself. It's not as hard as you think it is. If nobody else likes you as yourself, it doesn't matter as long as you like yourself.”_

_She glanced up at that. “Do you like yourself?”_

_“You're darn right I do.” He grinned in that egotistical way she'd come to find entertaining. “I do my job and I do it well, and I'm the best sailor in the whole wide world. And if someone doesn't like me, then they're not worth my time. It takes effort to know people, and laziness just to guess and dislike without a chance. And you, little lady, are not lazy.”_

_“... Donald?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“You're still holding my hand.”_

_So he was. “Uh.” So he was still was. “Uhhh.” Still holding it. “I was – just – um – I was going to – to help you practice rigging the preventer!” This involved nearly squishing Daisy's hand to the boom and tying yet another intricate knot. As the blushing ducks debated whether to speak of whatever happened between them, peeking at each other and then pretending they hadn't, Donald made a deep decision. How was she to like him if he didn't tell her who he was? “Daisy, I'm not sure how to put this.”_

_“Hm.” Daisy was no longer naive about the world, including the many interests of men, and she wasn't exactly objecting to the idea of being Donald's interest. With the knot completed, she rolled her shoulders, coyly fluttering her eyelashes. “I'm listening.” As she began to twirl hair around her finger, a red rose dropping petals tangled in her hands, she expected a confession of how jaw-droppingly gorgeous he found her and he needed her every night and day. She was still a bit spoiled._

_But instead of satiating Daisy's fantastic ego, Donald rubbed his knuckles, avoiding her intense gaze. “What do you know about the god Hades?”_

_Daisy blinked slowly, the candle of lust promptly snuffed out. How disappointing. “That he's some creep who rules the Underworld and kills little children because their mother's cry is music to his ears?”_

_“Oh, come_ on. _” Donald slapped an open hand to his face, pulling it down hard._

_“So what?” Daisy was about to drop her sleeve in an attempt for Donald to focus on something far more gratifying. “What does that monster have to do with you and me right now? It's got nothing to - ” But for all of Daisy's faults, and there were a great number of them, stupidity wasn't among them. Her hand froze as she understood exactly why he asked, and why he now looked so crestfallen, his entire body sagging. In that moment Daisy recalled every horrifying story she'd ever been told about Hades, most of them by her devastated mother. A beast, a merciless creature, a demon who relished in pain and suffering._

_But a demon who relished in pain and suffering wouldn't have held her hand so tenderly._

_“I don't – I don't care,” she blurted out, rising to her feet so fast that the boat began to wobble._

_“Daisy, be careful!”_

_“I don't care!” she shouted louder this time, hands rolled into fists, her eyes feeling hot. “I don't care what they say about you on Mount Olympus, because – because it can't be true, none of it's true! I know who you are, they don't!”_

_Color flooded Donald's white cheeks, but he tried to hold off her compassion, his hands out and ready to steady her if she tipped over. “It's more than that, Daisy! Once your mother and everyone finds out I've been spending time with you, they'll treat you like dirt too!”_

_“I don't care!”_

_“They'll say bad things about you too, and they'll trample all over you!”_

_“I don't care!”_

_“Daisy, you don't understand, they-”_

_“I SAID_ I DON'T CARE _, YOU MORON, ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!”_

 _“I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU OUT, YOU OBNOXIOUS BRAT!”  
_  
~*~

And that was the first time we made out. It was totally worth falling off of the boat. Anyway, it was obvious to me that once Donald took up ruling the Underworld, his family abandoned him. Despite all he'd done to help overthrow his father, they treated Donald like he was unworthy just because of a pair of dice. Yet despite all that, he was kind and caring and he helped me. How could you not fall in love with someone who wouldn't let centuries of hate and gossip destroy his good heart?

But I was spending so much time with Donald that I had long since stopped paying attention to what was happening on Mount Olympus. If you'll remember, I said that Mother was trying to get me hitched and I had pretended to be interested. I thought maybe she'd be so picky and fearful that she'd never settle on whoever would be my husband, and boy was I wrong. Not too long after Donald and I told each other how we felt, Mother dropped the bombshell – she approved of Apollo, and we were to be married.

Gladstone, right? I don't have to tell you that guy's annoying with a big fat UGH. Of course I said no, and I followed it up with that I didn't want to marry anyone. Mother said that it was for my own good, and that I couldn't possibly know what I wanted, that she knew me better than I knew myself. This from a woman who didn't realize her daughter was gone for weeks! It turned into a screaming match the likes of Mount Olympus had never heard before. The complaints poured in, and all the other gods and goddesses couldn't understand “what the big deal was”. Why not just marry Apollo and sit prettily by his side for the rest of eternity? No one was my ally, and surrounded by all sides by people who didn't care what I said to say, I knew I'd be forced into marriage. No amount of begging, pleading, or crying would get them to change their minds. So I did the only thing I could think of – I ran back to the mortal plane.

With all those eyes looking for me, I knew it wouldn't be long before I was found and forcibly dragged back. I ran to the only place I knew I could be comforted – Donald's shore, and mercifully there he was. I told him what was happening, and as far as I knew this was going to be goodbye. I'm amazed he understood a word I was saying through all of my sobbing. There was nowhere on the mortal plane I could hide that Mother wouldn't be able to find me, now that she was actually trying. I didn't want to let go of Donald, and he didn't want to let go of me. I guess that's what gave him the idea, though he told me after that it was a spur of the moment deal.

When I opened my eyes, the two of us were in the Underworld.

Is it dank and dreary? Kind of, yeah. It's an endless cavern lit by candles that never go out, and a green river flows through it, carrying floating islands filled with the dead. But they're actually really cheerful down there, reunited with their friends and family, getting to be whatever age they please at that moment. They share stories of their lives, and await those they miss most. But back to me. Donald instantly began apologizing, saying this was the only place he could think of to buy me some time while I thought of what to do. You have to give him credit – it was exactly the one place no one thought to look.

I was shocked at first, but compared to what was about to happen to me up above? This was paradise. Maybe if I stayed down here long enough, Mother would cancel the marriage and I could return to the surface and sail with Donald. Until then, I didn't mind staying there. It's really quite cozy once you get used to the place. He's got this adorable three-headed dog who is the sweetest thing, just expect three times the slobber when he licks you. The Sisters of Fate aren't exactly pleasant company, but they do know how to weave a good story. The dead were always delighted to have more company, and I got to see Donald at the role that “destiny” supposedly gave him.

And he does a dang good job. He makes sure no spirits escape, even if he has to grab them himself and yank them down. He helps the lost lovers find one another, and has even conducted a few marriages where everyone is invited. When little children who come there far too early have to wait for their parents, he plays with them and keeps them from crying. He told me he'd like little ones of his own someday – he has no confidence about himself as a father, but maybe as an uncle, with a gang of nephews to call his own.

I missed the sunshine and the sea, but I was allowed to talk to whoever I wanted and actually got full conversations back. I could go wherever I wanted on the river Styx, teach Cerberus new tricks, examine the strings that the Sisters would tangle, but I was given one rule – I couldn't eat or drink anything while I was there. I found that out after Donald slapped a pomegranate out of my hand. Turns out the food and drink keeps the spirits there, and if they left they'd just dissolve into nothing. No one knew what would happen if any god ate one, Donald had never dared, and I wasn't in a hurry to find out.

Whenever new souls found their way into the Underworld, I was with Donald, wanting to see how he reacted to new families finding one another. He's not a huge romantic, but he knew when I needed his arms, and I could erase his stress with just one kiss. We were happy, and curse whoever says otherwise! There were days I thought I would be content never to return to the surface so long as I had my Donald. But the longer I stayed there, the sooner we noticed that a lot more souls were coming in than usual. When I say a lot, I mean dozens at a time, then more, then hundreds. At first we thought some giant war was spreading across Greece, but the souls told us that they'd starved to death. The less I go into detail the better.

Did I mention my Mother was nuts? This was nuts into overdrive. When she searched every inch of the world and found no trace of me, she got so upset she didn't do her job – she didn't command the plants to grow. In case you didn't know, mortals really need plants in order to live. No grass, no trees, no vegetables or fruits, nothing was growing and what remained was dying. Animals starved, and it followed that mortals starved too. Zeus tried to demand Demeter to restore things, but she refused, and because he has the spine of a jellyfish, he couldn't think of anything else to do except demand things in a slightly louder voice. It's not like he could kill her. With the ambrosia that flows in Mount Olympus, all of our wounds heal instantly.

When Donald and I realized what was going on, we knew I had to return to Mother's side before everything on the mortal plane died. I cried and ranted and pulled out my hair at how unfair it all was, how everything was suffering just because I didn't want to obey her ridiculous orders. But Donald, sweet Donald, he said he wouldn't force me to go. He left it up to me. Which, in a way, was almost worse. So I asked to have some time to say goodbye to everyone before I went back.

I also did something extra, but didn't tell Donald. He'd definitely have stopped me if he found out beforehand.

~*~  
 _  
Donald had gone to Olympus first to try and explain things, but the moment he said that Daisy was in the Underworld, he was blamed by every single soul. Demeter screamed that Donald had kidnapped her daughter just to see her suffer even more, and everyone agreed that this was “obviously” what had happened. When Donald ultimately lost his temper and screamed right back, it only made the gods and goddesses more sure that he was a dangerous man who would steal everyone's children for his own desires._

_When Daisy joined the group, a hand on her stomach, there was silence for five extremely long seconds. Given how the men and women were surrounding Donald, she could tell right away that things had gone from bad to worse. She tried to reach for Donald's hand, but was clasped into a tight embrace by Demeter._

_“Oh, my precious Persephone!” Her fingers dug into her daughter, as if her limbs would protect her from Donald. “It's all right now! I won't ever let that awful man get near you again!”_

_“Awful?_ He's _awful?” Daisy grabbed a fistful of her mother's hair, yanking her down so they were on eye level. “You let_ thousands _die – you_ made _them die! If you think I'm going to let you badmouth him after that murder tantrum you just threw, you've lost your mind!” Demeter tried to reason that they were merely mortals, but Daisy wasn't done, pushing her aside to snap and growl at the other immortals. “And all of you just let her do this! You all think you're so much better than mortals, but you...” Her rant was postposed as a sharp pain stabbed her stomach, and she hunch over, clenching her teeth. “You...All of you...What's the point of being so powerful, if all you do is just party and...”_

_“Daisy?” While Donald hadn't spent a lot of time in the presence of other gods and goddesses, even he knew that such sudden pain wasn't normal. He tried to reach for her, but Demeter violently slapped him away, screeching at him that this was his fault._

_“Shut up, mother!” Daisy managed to hiss out while bent over, sweat dripping down her feathers. “He does the most important job in the whole wide world, and you all treat him like garbage! You...augh...” She held herself, her vision beginning to blur, yet she refused to stop speaking, needing her opinion heard even if it went ignored. “You...You don't even try to find the truth...You're just happy with whatever is easiest for you! I won't be like you! I won't stay here and...and turn into some empty-headed pawn! I won't let you control my future! I won't let you control me! I...Only I...get to...decide that...”_

_Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed onto the floor, her breath sharpening. Donald yelled her name in horror, and he knelt down to scoop her up into his arms, begging her to know what happened. Demeter burst into terrified sobs, while the other gods and goddesses didn't dare move – what if whatever Daisy “caught” touched them? As tears began to roll down Donald's cheeks, he only now saw the fruit that spilled out of Daisy's robe – a pomegranate with a fresh bite mark. “What?! This is...” He snatched it up, squeezing it in hot anger and grief. “I told you! I told you not to eat anything! Why did you...You stupid, stupid brat!”_

_Daisy curled up in his embrace, smiling despite the agony her insides were writhing through. “Because...I finally...found a way...to like myself...” A hard gulp of air. “Some people fight...with swords and shields...this is...how I wanted...to fight...”_

_But now that the source of the sickness had been revealed, all was not lost. Hera wordlessly stood up from her throne, plucking one of the flowers that grew between the throne of her and her husband. It was possible she didn't know if this would work, and equally possible that she didn't mind if Daisy died right then and there. No one dared to ask Hera how her mind worked or what her motivations were that day. She knelt down, tilting the flower toward's Daisy's open mouth, and the ambrosia poured in._

_Daisy's body bucked, thrashing in quiet torment, and hundreds of vines sprouted from her body, popping off flowers of all shapes and colors that died instantaneously. The process repeated again and again, until finally the vines slipped away, and Daisy was breathing normally, the fever gone from her face. A voice dared to speak up – Gladstone's. “Is...Is she going to be all right?”_

_“I-I don't know,” Donald confessed, helping his beloved sit up in his arms. “The seeds of the Underworld can't be digested and they will never go away. This might work for now, but...she might have to go back to the Underworld for a bit to recover.”_

_“I won't let you steal her again!” Demeter found her voice and her anger again, towering over Donald as she shook with fury. “She is a bride to be, not yours to take!”_

_“Yeaaaah. About that.” There came Gladstone again, raising his hand upward. “I've never had bad luck happen to me before, so I'm not entirely sure if this is it, but...I'd really rather not marry anyone who's been in the Underworld. She's been around dead people. Kinda gross. No offense, Persephone dear.”_

_“None taken,” Daisy replied groggily._

_Demeter's face fell, and with her momentum stolen, she faced the other men, trying to gain their support. “Well, she...She'd still be an excellent bride! Any one of you can have her, I trust you!”_

_“No thanks,” said Mortimer._

_“No way,” said Pete._

_“ **It pains me to say this, but I must pass,** ” said Zeus, fully aware that Hera was glaring daggers at him. It followed that every male god on the mountain, including the visiting demi-gods and all other types of creatures and beasts visiting their favorite deity, politely declined marrying used goods._

_With each rejection, Demeter's body appeared to shrink a little more, and she had no weaponry left except to lash out at Donald. “You! This is your fault! You planned this!”_

_“First off, lady, I am not that clever,” Donald growled as he wiped the tears from his face. “Second off, as much as you'd like to believe otherwise, I don't put people in harm's way to get what I want. Unlike_ some _people. Now I am going to take her back to the Underworld so she can rest! And if you actually care about your daughter, or about anyone other than yourself, you won't cause another apocalypse!” With one last huff, he stood on his feet, cradling Daisy close to his chest. “Anything else you want to say to 'em before we head back?”_

 _Daisy didn't have the words, but felt a long, wet raspberry would suffice.  
_  
~*~

So it turned out that I have to stay in the Underworld for a few months every year, or I'll get super sick all over again. And when that happens, Mother throws another tantrum, but at least it's shorter this time around, and since then, the mortals kind of see it coming and know what to do. That's what you can always count on mortals to do – adapt to change. They're really amazing that way. I've also made a vow to never return to Mount Olympus. It's got nothing I want up there.

Being a goddess is a bizarre thing, Minnie. Sometimes I think the mortals don't really need us at all. They'll always find ways to move on and survive on their own. They'll make bigger ships than this, faster ones, and they'll have this entire world in their hands. Maybe one day there will come a time when they forget all about us...and that might be for the best. We shouldn't be allowed to decide their future or shape it in any way. The same goes for you and me.

You are unique, Minnie, in so many ways. We don't know where you came from, what you can do, or how the future will turn out. But don't you ever let anyone but you decide it. Not even Mickey. Whether you find your place in the world or you never do, it doesn't matter as long as you are happy with yourself. As long as you like yourself, no one has the right to tell you where to go and what to do. And if they try? You fight it in whatever way you can. I'll be by your side all the way.

~*~

“And you can stop hugging me now.” Daisy thought that sappy speech was embarrassing enough on its own, but of course Minnie had to make it worse by holding Daisy tightly from behind and almost tipping her over. “For goodness sake. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not dying anymore.”

“I know,” Minnie sniffled, deeply moved by the story told and the meanings behind it. “But I love you so much, my dear Daisy. I truly do. You're my best friend in the whole wide world.” She had not once believed that Donald had ever kidnapped Daisy, even long before she met the man for herself. The fact that they still perpetuated that lie angered her in a place deep within her soul, doubly so that they would never accept it even if Minnie said otherwise. It also told her that if anyone on the mountain ever found out what she was doing with Mickey, they'd twist and turn it into something disgusting and horrible to suit their own needs. They couldn't be trusted.

“Okay, but I can't steer the boat with you hugging me like this, and I have to return the boat to shore before Donald gets mad.” She reached to try and untangle Minnie's fingers from her stomach. “And I'll have to ask Donald for permission before you show the boat to Mickey.”

Minnie blinked, surprised, which allowed Daisy to safely push her off. “How did you know that's what I wanted to do next?”

“Because you're obsessed with that little weirdo, that's how.” A knowing flick to Minnie's black nose. “If my story didn't tip you off, that mouse must've never been to Mount Olympus, because he'd have drunk the ambrosia and never had his leg shaped that way. But whenever a god has a child, they're fully allowed to bring that kid to the mountain and have a drink of it. So whoever popped that kid out hasn't told a soul about him, and might not want anyone to know he exists.”

Minnie was about to ask why anyone wouldn't want to know about marvelous Mickey, but a thought changed her mind. “What if he came out of nowhere, just like me?” It would be another sign of how they were meant to be, so Minnie saw it.

“I'd normally say that's impossible, but with you, I suppose anything is now.” Daisy shrugged before heading to the bow of the ship. “A mystery falling in love with a mystery. It's very fitting.” With a roll of her shoulders, she set to steer the ship around. “Now, watch me do it. I'll teach you everything I know so you can sail away with Mickey into the sunset.”

“You can count on me, I'll have it all memorized!” Mickey matters aside, she was always eager to learn something new and Daisy was glad to teach. As they pulled ropes and measures sails, Daisy quietly hoped Donald would give them permission to show the boat to Mickey. As much as she loathed her mother's suffocating hold, there was pity to be had for Mickey, who had nothing and no one save for forgetful fish women. She hoped Minnie was right and that Mickey really did come from “nowhere”, so it meant he wasn't abandoned and forcefully forgotten.

Yet she recalled Donald's look when she first told him of Mickey, of his leg and his cave – a look of despair, of heartache and regret. She hadn't been able to needle the story out of him yet, but there definitely was a story there in the waiting. When would he speak of Mickey, and did she really want to hear it? What other disasters had those on Mount Olympus created?

Daisy's fingers found themselves on Minnie's shoulder, clenching her close in a protective hold. They would not cause Minnie pain, not if Daisy had anything to say about it. She would protect her friend.

But as they sailed around the cold waters, with Minnie's mind burning in a hundred new directions, Daisy had no idea that the one Minnie might need protection from was herself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my editors Drucilla and Blueshifted!
> 
> One of these days I'll have a chapter where nobody cries. Here's hoping. Also, by the end of this chapter, Mickey STILL DOESN'T REALIZE MINNIE LIKES HIM AS MORE THAN A FRIEND. someone help him.

It took Minnie many tries to master the sailboat, although it helped that, as a goddess, she didn't need much rest or even to stop and eat. She wanted Mickey to have the same enjoyment Donald had, Daisy had, that she had, that many mortals had every single day. By now, it was no longer about winning Mickey over so deeply that when he inevitably learned who she was, he'd love her regardless of her real name. What now mattered most to Minnie was Mickey's happiness.

On the day Minnie planned to go through with her idea, she invited Daisy along, but her friend declined. This was one of the rare days Donald had managed to schedule ahead so they could be together. On the one hand, Minnie was happy that she could spend more alone time with Mickey. On the other, she wanted the people she cared about most to meet each other. Friends of friends would surely become the best of friends. But so be it, they would have to meet another day.

That same day, Mickey was up bright and early, working on his projects while occasionally glancing at the entrance to his cave to see if anyone – a particular someone – was coming. He'd gotten a good start on Minnie's tiara, and at this rate, it would be finished very soon. He looked down at the project, with its balanced shells and curled copper lines. In due time, it would be one of his greatest masterpieces. It would also mean Minnie would leave.

For all the happy talks and fun spent together, there was still doubt in Mickey's mind that Minnie would want to stay beyond what her present required. With that thought circling around, he picked up his hammer. While Minnie had certainly learned many things about how to craft metalwork, there was still plenty she didn't know. She didn't know how long something like this was supposed to take – so if it suddenly needed an extra week – an extra month – maybe she'd be none the wiser. He knew Minnie wasn't airheaded like his mermaids, she'd catch on eventually. Just not for a while. Just...

The hammer was held high in the air, ready to smash the tiara to smithereens so he would have to start all over again. He could always tell her he changed his mind and that a bracelet would look better on her. Or that he ran out of supplies and had to start from scratch. It would be easy, maddeningly easy, just to destroy it and keep up this cycle for ages. Then Minnie would never leave him, she would have to stay with him, have to talk to him, have to be with him, have to make him feel like maybe there was a point to his existence.

But he didn't bring the hammer down. He couldn't.

When he heard Minnie's voice say his name in a singsong manner, he was much more grateful this time around. He quickly set his hammer aside and straightened his back, doubting she would guess what temptations he'd nearly fallen to, but not wanting to take any chances. “Hello, Minnie,” He greeted her with a calm smile, wondering what curious questions she'd ask of him today.

Minnie skipped down into the cave, waving hello to the Axelias she passed before stopping in front of her sweetheart. “Mickey! I have a very, very big surprise for you today!” She latched onto his arm, squeezing him tenderly, eyes full of eager adoration. She could have had cartoon hearts flutter overhead and Mickey still would have believed this was the look one friend gave another. Before he could ask what the big surprise was, Minnie began to tug on him. “You and I are going out to sea!”

Mickey blinked slowly, trying to understand, his first conclusion incorrect. “You wanna see the girls again? All right, but I don't have any of their gifts ready.”

“No, no, no,” Minnie corrected, her tugging become more urgent. “Not like that! I mean you and I are going out on the ocean! Sailing! On a boat! My dear friends have lent me their boat, and you and I shall go out sailing!”

Fear had come so rarely to Mickey's heart that he almost didn't recognize that's what the chilling sensation down his spine meant. “Out...you mean...out there?” Beyond his rocky cliffside? Beyond the trees and sand? Beyond the safety of his cave, where no one could see him? “I-I don't know, Minnie.” He shakily tried to free his arm, unable to look her in the face. “I mean, what do I need out there? I got everything I need right here.”

“This isn't about need,” Minnie implored, although she released Mickey's arm. “This is about want! Mickey, you'll enjoy it, I promise! You deserve to see what the world is like!” When Mickey wouldn't respond, she ran to the wall where the map of Izmir hung, pulling it off. “Don't you want to see what the world is like, instead of hearing someone talk about it?”

“I never said I wanted to see the world,” Mickey mumbled, but that didn't mean he hadn't thought it. If the world didn't need him, why should he need the world? Yet his eyes couldn't help but slide over to the ragged piece of parchment Minnie was holding, full of black lines and guesswork. He could invent mechanical servants, weapons that would last centuries of wars, and jewelry that would make any woman a breathtaking sight. Yet he couldn't imagine what that shore looked like. He couldn't see towns or villages in his mind's eye, nor the colors of flowers on grassy hills.

As Mickey thought of what he couldn't know, Minnie pinned the map back up and walked over to his side. She delicately took his hand into both of hers, curling around his fingers as if they were frail glass. “It'll be just you and me,” she whispered, not out of seduction or a hint of romance, but to assure him that there would be no other eyes upon him. “I promise. Mickey...I would never do anything to hurt you.”

She would lie to him, though, but that was surely something else entirely. So she told herself.

Regardless of that, Mickey did believe her. He couldn't imagine Minnie hurting anyone, or even having the desire to hurt another. She was far too sweet for this world of cruelty. She was far too sweet for him. “I...Well...Just...” A heavy sigh of defeat. “Just for a little while, okay? I still got a lot of work to do, including your tiara, y'know, I-”

“Yay!” Minnie threw herself at Mickey for another gigantic hug, of which Mickey believed he'd never get used to. “Let's go, let's go, let's go!”

Once Mickey was on his good leg and his walking stick was under his arm, he followed Minnie out of the cave, trying not to get his hopes up. They'd leave for a few minutes, maybe, and then return and then she'd never ask him this again. His nerves began to rattle as he changed directions away from the sharp rocks he knew, following the flouncing Minnie. Why had she asked him this, he lamented in self-pity. But then it occurred to him much more seriously – really, _why had_ she asked him to do this? It was going to delay her tiara, and since he'd never been on a boat before, there was nothing he could teach her. She gained nothing from this venture at all. His servants were good to him because that was how they were designed, and the mermaids and nereids who had raised him were obligated in their kindness. Mickey was stumped.

The sailboat had been pushed onto the sandy shore, and Mickey stopped to stare. He had heard many tales of these things, of their various sizes and colors and purposes. Unlike Minnie, who had initially balked at anything so old and worn-down as being worth much, Mickey was utterly fascinated by what he saw as scars of time. His mouth was open but no words came out, and as he came closer to the boat, he quickly reached out to touch what he could. It was real, not a dream nor a fantasy.

“Isn't it grand?” Minnie asked, and she didn't mind when Mickey didn't reply. He was now inspecting the rudder, moving it with a hand and chewing his lower lip. Minnie knew Mickey so well by now that she could almost hear the gears clicking in his head of how the ship worked, and what could be done to improve it. She giggled. “Wait until you see it in action!”

“In action?” Mickey repeated, almost forgetting why it was there in the first place. “Oh! Right!” Embarrassed by his display, he began to drag himself up the ladder. It took him more than three tries, and when Minnie offered on the fourth, Mickey cut in harshly, “I don't need help!” No matter how considerate she was, he wouldn't be helped. He wouldn't take pity. He'd rather humiliate himself in his attempts than take someone's charity. Minnie bit her lip, but tried not to feel too hurt. He had his reasons, and she hoped she'd learn what they were someday.

Eventually Mickey managed to climb inside and sit down. He scratched his head, wondering how they were going to get it into the ocean – then he felt the boat move. He glanced overboard and to his surprise saw Minnie shoving it forward. How was a girl that small and thin able to push this giant? She must have been a powerful creature, whatever she was! He found himself admiring her a little more.

As the boat touched the water, it rocked slightly, and Mickey seized onto the side, suddenly terrified of tipping over. He squeezed his eyes tight, unable to swim and awaiting the horror of the water, but it didn't come. Instead he heard many different noises, of ropes being tied and pulleys being moved, which was enough to make him open his eyes. “Watch your head for the boom,” Minnie warned with melody in her tone, her arms moving this way and that to control the many aspects of the boat. Mickey managed to duck just in time, but once his head was up, she had all of his attention.

Being a god of invention and metal, Mickey automatically understood what each tug was designed to do, the purpose of the strings, the ability of the wheel ahead. With each hint of knowledge gained, he was overcome with desire to build and improve. A way to lift the sails higher with a tug, how to increase the boat's speed, the possibilities were endless. He hadn't even realized he had stood up, the wind washing over his body as he stared on in awe. How marvelous was this thing called a sailboat! How marvelous were the hands of mortals!

“Careful, Mickey,” Minnie warned again, slowing down her work yet not stopping completely. “I don't want to get too distracted. Not yet.”

“Huh?” Mickey was so spellbound that he hadn't realized he'd actually come up right behind Minnie to observe it all up close. He'd even grabbed her shoulders to lean in better. Now he did know how close he was to her – enough to notice that despite being in the sea her own scent was stronger – and his heart backflipped into his throat. “WHOA! OH NO! Oh no no no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I...” He babbled on incomprehensibly, stumbling backwards and sitting down hard, his entire face red and sadly covering his face with both hands didn't hide it. All it accomplished was making him miss the devious smirk on Minnie's face. She'd enjoyed that.

In an effort to get over his overwhelming mortification, Mickey tried to look elsewhere and at last looked at the sea. Now that he was seeing it from this angle, instead of the shore, it was different in ways he couldn't find the words for. There was real depth to it, it wasn't so endless. There were colors he hadn't seen before, and he could spy fish he'd never tasted. He quietly dipped his fingers into the water, watching ripples form as the boat continued forward. Even the feel of the water was different now – it was kind of warm from the sun's glow, yet contained a tiny chill from below. The sun hadn't completely reached the top of the sky yet, and Mickey leaned back to see how the sun's rays glittered on the water's surface. They looked like shimmering diamonds that couldn't stay still.

For a long time, no words were said. Mickey had thought that Minnie would be pointing out every little thing, but instead she had let him be alone with his new discoveries. Even stranger, Mickey found that this wasn't so bad. There was no crackling of fire or bubbling of lava or the whirs and clicks his servants made. Instead there was water against the hull, the wind passing by, and the creak of the sails. There were places where the world was content with itself. Man nor god could destroy this, no matter the years that would pass. With the wind beginning to die down, Minnie silently excused herself from her duty and sat beside Mickey, leaning on him with a pleased sigh. He wasn't even looking at her, but that was all the better. It meant he was savoring the view, which was what she'd wanted.

As much as she desired a chance for him to, say, kiss the girl, or at last see the light, it was far more important to her that Mickey's world got bigger. As she nestled up to him, Mickey was thinking along similar lines. This tiny trip made him want to invent, want to see more of the ocean, want many more things – and it absolutely didn't benefit Minnie whatsoever. He turned his head to look at her, her cheek affectionately nuzzling his shoulder. While Mickey remained oblivious to what such a loving touch meant, he couldn't be silent about this mind-puzzler anymore. “Minnie?” He hadn't heard his own voice in so long that it came out louder than intended. “Why did you do this?”

Minnie placed her hands on his shoulders, smiling wide. “Because it's so much fun! My friend Daisy took me sailing, and she shared this lovely story about how she and her husband-”

“That's not what I meant,” Mickey interrupted, taking Minnie's hands and removing from his shoulder, but he didn't let go. “I...I don't understand why you're doing any of this. If...If you're thinking somehow this is going to make me work harder on the tiara, it won't! I'm giving it my all as is!”

The goddess pulled back, confused as to why Mickey sounded so pained. “Huh? This has nothing to do with the tiara.”

“Then why?” Mickey pleaded, struggling to understand, trying to find the reason Minnie would leave him, because of course she would, she had to, he was nothing and no one. “Why are you doing this? Why do you...why do you stay and talk to me, and play with my mermaids and nereids, and ask me things, and, and, and now all of this! Why are you doing this for me, when I can't give you anything back?” His hands were shaking, and it pained him to look into her beautiful eyes – now a divine gold. “I can't, Minnie, there's nothing I can do!”

Why was he making this so complicated? Minnie couldn't fathom it, and so spoke as simply as she could. “I want to make you happy!”

_“I don't deserve to be happy!”_

Minnie stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her own feet, her open mouth unable to form words at the moment. The silence that came after was as sharp as a dagger, and it appeared to have stabbed Mickey in the chest. It had been a thought that he'd held locked up in a secure vault, far back in the reaches of his mind. Minnie had unknowingly unlocked it, and now it couldn't be pushed back. Now it was taking all of his will not to cry – especially when Minnie's soft hands held his cheeks, her own eyes wet at the sheer idea of how much self-loathing had been screamed in that sentence. “Mickey...what made you think that way?”

She didn't know? Mickey had always assumed she did, that everyone off the island did – that instead of being the biggest secret alive, he was the biggest shame. He wasn't sure which was worse. His eyes fell down to his twisted leg, the bane of all his troubles. Minnie's eyes followed suit, but she couldn't grasp why a simple difference like that tormented his life.

“Gods...gods are supposed to be perfect,” Mickey's voice was soft, having never told this story before as he never thought he would have to. “No mistakes. No flaws. It's what keeps us separate from mortals.”

“That's just ridiculous,” Minnie crossed her arms, her cheeks puffing out. “I know gods that are far from perfect! They're obnoxious and rude and self-centered! You're worth more than ten of them – a hundred of them! Whoever put that idea in your head is just a fool!”

Mickey glanced up for half a second. “...My mother.”

Minnie stopped mid huff. Surely she hadn't heard that correctly. “Huh?”

“My mother. She told me I was supposed to be perfect. She was the one who gave me my birth name... Hephaestus.”

~*~

“Hephaestus?”

Deep in the Underworld, Daisy had halted in her game of fetch with Cerberus to answer Donald's question. The golden three headed dog panted wildly, waiting for Daisy to throw the wooden stick she'd grown just for the occasion. Now instead of being thrown, she was using it to scratch her head in confusion. “I've never heard of that name either. Sheesh, that makes two gods I don't know! I must really be falling behind.” She mused at the idea of Minnie going gung-ho, excited to discover this second one, and she finally threw the stick across the River Styx. Cerberus yapped in glee and ran off to fetch it, diving into the water first. “So who's this one? Is he related to Mickey?”

Donald was pulling at his sleeves repeatedly, dreading the tale he was going to weave but knowing it had to be told. “Actually...if what you told me is right...I think Hephaestus _is_ Mickey. And if he is, I might be one of the worst guys in the whole wide world.”

Daisy narrowed her eyes, and flicked Donald's beak. “I don't let anyone else talk about you that way, I'm certainly not going to let you start!”

He hesitantly met her gaze. “You might change your mind once you hear this.”

“Try me.”

“You asked for it.” As one of the “big three” gods, a god of unimaginable power, his abilities surpassed regular ones. He concentrated on summoning his own Viewing Mirror – the frame was made out of bones, held together by string so sharp you'd swear you felt yourself getting cut just by looking at it. While most pure blood gods could only use a Viewing Mirror to see the present, the big three could also see the past. With a wave of his hand, Donald called forth the days of battle, when he, his brothers, and other gods were at war with his father, Cronus. “Back when we were taking down our old man, Zeus was still a ladykiller. But when Hera joined in on the fight, she sparked his interest. Once Cronus was gone for good, Zeus spent all his time trying to win her over, and she rejected him every single time. To him, it was like a game – the more she resisted, the more he wanted her. No one had ever said no to him before.”

Daisy rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “Well obviously she must have said yes eventually. Last I checked, she is the Queen of the gods.”

“I'm trying to create a mood here!” Donald snapped before returning to his role as narrator, the Viewing Mirror showing a much less haggard version of Hera tenderly stroking a large swan. “He found out she really had a thing for birds, so he turned himself into a swan and got on her good graces. Then he revealed himself, and for some stupid reason she found the whole ordeal charming. She finally agreed to marry him, and he vowed to love her for the rest of her days.”

“...How long did it take for him to start going after women?”

“Two days.”

“ _Ouch,_ ” Daisy visibly winced.

“Yep.” Donald snapped his fingers, showing Hera alone on her throne, stewing in anger and jealousy. “All that effort, and he was bored already. She tried to think of a way to make him stay with her for good, and after she heard about the dozens of kids he was having on the mortal plane, she got an idea to have her own. But she was determined not to have just any kid.” The mirror reflected Hera wrapping herself up in storm clouds, impenetrable by outside forces. “When it comes to babies, a goddess can pop one out really quickly if she has the strength and will. But Hera wanted to go through the nine months like mortals do, just so she could concentrate on how perfect this kid would be.” He sighed heavily, sad eyes watching Hera lay in her self-made cocoon. “She wouldn't come out for anything. For nine straight months, she thought about how her kid would make Zeus be loyal, because he'd be the best child ever born.”

Daisy's sense of dread began to grow. It was natural for a parent to want the best from their child, but that and nothing else? Nine months of perfection, perfection, perfection? What child, even a god-like one, could possibly hold up to those standards? Donald found it harder to watch the mirror since he knew what was to come, but he didn't budge. “The nine months came and went, and it was time for her to give birth. Even I was invited to come, that's how big a deal it was.”

_Gods, goddesses, demi-gods, creatures of mystic tales and beings that couldn't be called human, all were invited to attend the momentous occasion. Hera had ripped apart the clouds surrounding her, and a child in swaddling cloth laid in her arms. Zeus knelt by her side, and Hera smiled lovingly at him, touching his cheek before unwrapping the cloth. Of course what lay inside wasn't a perfect child – it was a frail, small mouse, with a leg that stuck out in a way that shouldn't._

_Hera screamed._

_“This is my child?! This – this weak, scrawny, ugly thing? You were supposed to make everything right! You were supposed to be my champion! I can't use you! I don't need you!”_

_Hera snatched the child by its deformed leg, and despite the horrified cries of those around her, she threw the screaming babe down below into the mortal world._

Daisy tried to reach out, yelling out in agony, “No!”, despite it being a memory she couldn't touch. “That...That awful woman! That was her _child_! Her _baby_! How could she do such a thing?!” It certainly put Demeter in a new light. She wasn't going to win any Mother Of The Year awards, but at least she had raised and loved Daisy in her own restrictive way.

Donald closed his eyes as the Hera in the mirror continued to rant and scream, forbidding anyone to ever speak the baby's name again. “Maybe all that stress for nine months warped his leg...Or maybe there are things even gods can't control. But...Hera made it pretty clear that we were never to mention him again, and most of us were too terrified to object. Zeus didn't even try. And I...I was just a coward.” He dragged his hand down his mirror, casting it away. “I spent every day here, looking for his spirit, but he never showed. And I never looked for him above ground.”

“But...why?” Daisy asked softly, struggling not to judge her beloved. “If you knew he was alive, why didn't you look for him?”

Donald made a heavy, hard sigh that seemed to cast all of the air he'd ever breathed in his life. “At first, I was just afraid. I had only just started this job, and I knew how much everyone hated me for it. I...I thought if I took him in, he'd become hated too. Or maybe I thought their hatred of me would grow. I kept telling myself that for decades...and then...by the time I stopped caring what they thought of me, I figured...it was too late. That he'd never want to see me, after I abandoned him the same way everyone else did. I can't make this right, Daisy.” He turned away from his wife, looking at his pathetic reflection in the River Styx. “The boy is my nephew. He deserves better.”

Daisy thought of pushing Donald into the river, but instead she wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Stupid. Moron. Idiot. Dummy.”

“...If this is your idea of making me feel better, it's not exactly working.”

“I'm not trying to make you feel better, I'm saying that's what you are.” Daisy flicked him again, now to the back of his head. “Yes, you screwed up big time. With each day you didn't go see him, you screwed it up worse and worse. And now that I know about this, I'm not letting it go.”

“It's a good thing you're not the goddess of pep talks.”

“Shut up and let me finish. I'm saying that because I know this, I'm not going to let it continue this way. You are going to meet your nephew.”

Donald lifted his head and looked back at Daisy as best he could. “I am? But what if he doesn't want to see me?”

“He may not even know seeing you is an option! And it's not fair of you to take that choice away from him.” She spun Donald around to face him properly. “Open up some time in that schedule of yours, and we'll get you two together, if we can pry him away from Minnie. And if he rejects you, so be it. But it'll be his choice!”

Donald's face melted, and a lukewarm smile bubbled up. It didn't erase away all of his guilt, but it had begun to feel a smidgen lighter. He leaned in and kissed Daisy's forehead. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You'll never figure it out,” Daisy said before pushing him into the River Styx.

“WAAAAAAAUGH!” Within seconds he had poofed. “ **WHAT WAS THAT FOR, YOU CRAZY WOMAN?!** ”

“THAT'S FOR NOT TELLING ME ABOUT MICKEY DURING ALL THE YEARS WE WERE MARRIED!”

As for Cerberus, he was padding back to his master and mistress, the sounds of loud arguments very normal for him. He patiently put down his stick and waited for the matter to settle itself, as it always did.

~*~

Obviously Mickey did not have the extra knowledge of his uncle's burden of guilt, so his version of his birth was considerably shorter. But he had heard his mother while in the womb, all the dreams and ambitions she had for him, and he had told this to Minnie, along with the fall down to the mortal world. Minnie had been crying for some time now, but she was trying not to throw herself at him so he could finish this excruciating story.

“I landed in the water,” Mickey continued, looking out to the ocean. The pain in his own voice had lessened, having come to terms with how despised and unwanted he was. “Couldn't swim at that age, even as a god, especially with this leg of mine. Would've drowned, if the mermaids and nereids hadn't found me. They took me to that shore, helped get the water out of my lungs. Brought me fish to eat. Taught me how to eat.” A bitter chuckle. “Can you imagine them teaching anyone anything? But they did. The mermaids helped me speak. The nereids helped me walk. I figured out early on there was only so much they could do, when it came to goin' on land. So I began digging in the caves to find what I needed.”

As Mickey explained his creation of the Axelias, it dawned on Minnie how old Mickey truly was. Creating that first cave by hand would have taken an average mortal their entire life. The blood of deities allowed Mickey to live for hundreds of years – centuries, perhaps. Which meant he had spent centuries hating himself, and believing he deserved his fate. Mickey wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, all this talking wearing him out. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Didn't mean to yell at you like that before. Wasn't right of me.” At least she'd understand now. She didn't need a reject. She didn't need his happiness. She didn't need him.

_I don't need nobody, and nobody needs me._

Minnie said nothing and inhaled deeply in an attempt to stop her tears. After swallowing, she knelt down and pushed Mickey's robe a bit – causing him to yelp and demand what she was doing – so she could kiss his disjointed knee. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

Mickey's jaw went slack. “Minnie?” Not even his fish family would touch his leg, for fear of hurting him.

“There is _nothing_ wrong with you.” Minnie lifted her head, her palms touching Mickey's thigh. “Your body is different. That doesn't make it wrong. That doesn't make you wrong. You are so clever, and kind, and funny, and there are millions of things that make you wonderful to be with. I like watching you make things. I like it when you teach me something new. I like it when you play with your mermaids and nereids. I like every single thing I know about you.” Another kiss to his knee. “Every, single, thing.”

Minnie rose to a standing position, her hands tightly clasped together. “And I don't know everything about you, but I want to learn everything about you. Because the more I discover about you, the more I like you. You're like an endless treasure to me! You give me what I ask for! You don't make me feel dumb when I don't know things! You treat me like a real person, instead of a painting on the wall! I feel like with you...I'm equal!” Minnie's torrent of compliments made her louder and louder, resolute that Mickey would love himself as much as she loved him. She had centuries to make up for, and she planned to fill them. “You make me feel like it's okay not to know everything! That it's okay to learn things!” Yet even with these passionate pleas she had yet to realize how low her own sense of worth was.

On her first day alive, she had been elevated to a position she hadn't earned and that no one would give her a chance to earn. With no one willing to tell her how the world worked, there had been no place for her, save for the arm of a god on Mount Olympus. How could she be in charge of love and beauty when she couldn't control either of these things? Love and beauty existed far before she did, and she could do nothing to improve these things, these mystical traits that changed in view from person to person. Daisy would still have her happiness with Donald. In all reality, there was no need for her to exist.

And now, because of Mickey, there was a reason.

“Don't you understand, Mickey? I want to make you happy! I want to make you the happiest man alive! I need you to be happy, because of how happy you've made me!” The tears she had managed to fight away came back with a vengeance, streaming down her face without mercy. “ _I need you!_ ”

Mickey went still.

_I don't need nobody, and nobody needs me.  
I don't need nobody, and nobody needs me.  
I don't need nobody, and nobody needs me._

Mickey's arms lashed out and he grabbed Minnie, holding her as forcefully as his trembling arms could. How had he been so blind to her suffering? She had spoke so little of herself that Mickey had always assumed she was being humble. Now it was clear he still had so much of her to unearth. He wasn't sure if he could ever let her go again. Was it really possible there was someone on this mortal plane that was as broken and uncertain as he was? Was he allowed to have something so grand as an equal? Maybe it wasn't up to him decide these things anymore.

The one thing he did decide in that moment was that he needed her. He needed her desperately.

He needed her and she needed him. Mickey needed Minnie and Minnie needed Mickey.

“Thank you.” It was all he could get out, their cold cheeks pressed against one another. “Thank you, Minnie. Please...” His voice began to break again, he had to get it out before he lost it entirely. “Please don't ever stop being my friend. Please don't leave me.”

“I won't. I won't ever leave you. I won't ever hurt you. Mickey...” She buried her face into his shoulder, and cried out the last of her tears. Mount Olympus could burn for all she cared. Let those rotten gods and goddesses have their ill ideas of perfection. She would make Mickey's life a happy one, no matter what it took, and no matter what Minnie suffered as a consequence. He deserved it.

Mickey was silently making a similar promise to himself. He'd find out who she was, so he could provide her whatever he could. He wanted to make her happy. There was nothing he could fathom he'd learn about her that would ever change his mind. Not that his mind could fathom certain possibilities.

It would be a long time until they returned to shore, longer still until they stopped touching each other. Among all the whirlwind thoughts of pasts and futures, the two were of like mind when it came to one thing. On that ocean that belonged to them, in a time no one could touch, they were truly happy.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editors Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> There are certain jokes in here I've wanted to use for ages. Also, I reused a storybit in there.

Much like how Minnie didn't know what to do as a goddess of love and beauty, many mortals weren't sure how to use her. She still got standard offerings, since it would have been inappropriate not to do so, but it was mostly Goofy who left anything with real meaning. He was also unsure of several things – like how to say “thanks, but please never ever EVER do that again” in the language of offerings. After seeing Goofy leave his latest offering, Agalma wanted to do it herself, but she'd yet to earn any money of her own. She kept this in mind as they went to the market, already needing to refill their supplies now that they had two mouths to feed.

It was a warm, busy day in the marketplace, but people still found the time to glance at Goofy and his girl. Many had speculated who she was – a distant cousin? A visiting friend? - yet none wanted to be the first to step up and simply ask. They were so used to the status quo of Goofy being unpopular that they didn't know how to handle evidence to the contrary. However, this would be the day that things would come around, as Goofy was mentally debating the cost of fresh fruit versus dried fruit. As Agalma patiently waited for him to make a decision, she caught the sight of Bouncer Beagle snatching an apple from a farmer's stall and walking away.

“Oh, are those free?” Agalma called after him, visibly startling everyone in the area. She'd yet to master the concept of how loud one's voice should be in public, which was especially difficult since she enjoyed making loud noises. “Can you tell me which ones are free? We're having a hard time shopping!”

Bouncer whipped around, narrowing his eyes at the innocent questions. “Are you bein' smart with me?” he snarled, crushing the apple in his hand. “I don't like when anybody is smart with me!”

Goofy quickly stepped in front of Agalma, meeting Bouncer's angry eyes with his own. “Don't you go pickin' on her just cause she caught you in the act! If you've got the coin, then spend it!”

“Stay out of this, goof,” Bouncer snorted, rolling his shoulders, trying to make himself seem taller than Goofy. He kept glaring at Agalma, who merely blinked back at him in confusion. “You better listen up, babe! You must be new here, 'cause no one messes with the Beagles!”

“Oh, I'm not new,” Agalma chirped, unable to recognize danger as it stared at her. “I've been with Goofy my whole life!”

Bouncer's temper faltered as he was presented with that odd statement. “What...? Now hey! I ain't no dummy, and I've been here my whole life! I'd have seen you before!”

“Oh, well, I wasn't able to go out before. I've mostly stayed in Goofy's bedroom ever since he first started working on me.”

Anyone who had been trying to ignore the escalating “argument” could no longer do so after that! Goofy's cheeks reddened, but he couldn't exactly deny it – it was the truth in its own fashion. “Uhhh. Agalma, you might wanna... reword that a little better, next time someone asks?”

Agalma looked back at him with raised eyebrows. “I should? Then how should I say it?” She cupped her chin in contemplation. “Hmmm...How about, you helped me with my figure? Does that make it better?”

It absolutely didn't, as evidenced by Bouncer's sudden shouting, spitting salvia with ever stutter. “A-A-Are you kiddin' me? I can't get any girl to look my way, but you two... are you really sayin' you two...You let that clumsy dog put his hands all over you?”

“Of course, he's done that for years! He's very good at what he does.”

Goofy slapped a hand over his eyes. “Aw, boy.” Now he could feel everyone's eyes on him, especially some of the village women who were now letting their imaginations run wild. The marketplace felt extra crowded today of all days – including one man who no one even knew was there. “Listen, we just wanted to get some food for the week! Can we pretend none of this ever happened?”

Maybe on another day, Bouncer would have been eager to get this whole mortifying ordeal over with and let things pass so he could go back to Ma. But this would be one of many coming days that would go out of control. Minnie and Daisy weren't the only divine beings that entered the village for their own idea of entertainment. With the lack of war to witness, Pete sometimes came down to the mortal plane to help stir up trouble. Let things peacefully go without any further trouble? Not on his watch! Mortals were much more amusing to watch when they let their emotions get the best of them and cause havoc for even the smallest of reasons.

Pete grinned wickedly as he stood behind Bouncer, invisible to all. While he couldn't possess a person to do exactly what he wanted, he could fan the flames of anger to get something similar. All it required was a single touch – like flicking the back of Bouncer's head with a finger. Just like that, Bouncer's ire was up, and now he suddenly couldn't let this lesser oaf get the best of him, even if it was just by having a pretty mate. “I ain't got that good an imagination, goof! You want me to pay up? Then I'll pay up!” He reached over and snatched the pouch of coins from Goofy's hand. “This should be plenty!”

“H-Hey!” Goofy tried to object, but Agalma was faster – she latched onto Bouncer's arm with her arms and legs.

“Give that back!” Agalma announced, not caring how ridiculous she looked or even what the concept of ridiculous was. “Goofy worked very hard for that money, and it doesn't belong to you.”

“Agalma! Get off him, you might get hurt!” But Goofy didn't know how to pry her off without making things worse.

Bouncer was flabbergasted – what woman in her right mind would do this? “Get off'a me! I ain't afraid to hurt a lady!” He tried to shake her off, but she wouldn't budge.

It wasn't exactly what Pete had wanted, but he supposed it was better than nothing. Now all he had to do to make this a real bloodbath was make the woman even angrier. He rubbed his fingers together, and walked over to poke her in the forehead – and then immediately pulled back. Whenever he touched a person, he could see their entire past, so he could draw up their worst temper tantrums and harshest memories, even if they'd long since forgotten them. But there was something wrong with this woman – there was a gigantic gaping hole in her memories! She was awake in Goofy's room – and that was it. Pete didn't have the power to see the memories of inanimate objects, so he had no idea that she held those as well. Still, how strange, to suddenly be a grown woman with nothing behind it – no childhood, no fights, no feelings before that day? What was she?

As Pete scratched his head in befuddlement, Agalma wouldn't let go, her own anger slightly increased by Pete's touch. “Give it back, give it back, give it back!”

“Agalmaaa!” Goofy pulled on his long ears in whining worry. What would make her stop this reckless behavior? Millicent would never have done anything so foolish! “You're makin' a scene, just let him go!”

Agalma craned her head slightly to respond to Goofy's cry. “Is me making a scene really that much worse than this man stealing money?”

Of course it wasn't – yet that was a shocking revelation to everyone but Pete, who was still fixated on Agalma's emptiness, and Bouncer, who was too mad to care. Maybe she was being humiliating, but was that really hurting anybody, as opposed to theft, which clearly hurt those who were victim to it? “At least I'm doing something!” she added, her weight now beginning to drag Bouncer lower. “How else is he going to know it's wrong if I don't do something?” Just like she learned it was wrong to wear Millicent's necklace – although that lesson had been a bit more painful – Agalma figured it was really no different.

Maybe it was the guilt she was unknowingly slinging, or the idea that this bizarre woman might get hurt, or both – but the farmer who'd been selling the apples finally spoke up. “I – I think you should fork over some cash for what you stole, Beagle! And I don't mean his!”

Bouncer was so rarely opposed that his anger fluctuated between that and confusion. “Huh? You – you tryin' to be smart with me? I'll take you on too!”

“Everyone's smart with you, because you're so dumb!” shouted the local fisherman. “I'm sick of your little brother always grabbing my catch!”

“And tell your Ma to leave my place alone!” yelled the nearby baker. “If she wants a loaf, she can buy it like an honest woman!”

Voices continued to rise up, one by one, years of resentment having built up until this very day. Goofy slowly looked around, wondering if the community had always been this big – the village seemed smaller when no one would talk to him. Millicent had always said just to ignore those who couldn't appreciate him. This was different somehow.

“You guys owe me thousands! It's time you started paying back!”  
“You come near my shop again, I'll get my whole family to kick you out!”  
“Why don't you beat it, you lousy Beagle!”

Bouncer tried to catch up with every accusation, but even someone as strong and dumb as he was could tell he couldn't take on everyone at once. “I...I... H-Hey! Beagles don't pay for nothin'! You're all gunna regret this!” But first he had to deal with the little lady that started it all. She hadn't let him go, and was even sticking her tongue out at him, a fun expression she learned from passing children. “Why you little...I'll teach you to make a fool out of me!” He raised his fist, intending to make her face as black as her fur.

Goofy had never been in a real fight. He'd been picked on for most of his life and learned to take it in stride. When someone else pushed, he would fall back and let whatever happened, happen. So what if he got hurt? Life would go on. Because of this, he never learned the right way to throw a punch. It could be said that this was beginner's luck in this case – because he perfectly socked Bouncer so hard in the nose that everyone in the marketplace could hear a thunderous CRACK of bone. A hush swept the crowd. Agalma didn't understand the significance of the action, but when Bouncer's body fell over, she did too – which allowed her to snatch the satchel right back. She joyfully held it up in her hands and stood next to Goofy, still oblivious. “Look, we got it back! I think everything's going to be okay now.”

Bouncer laid there for what felt like a long time, but in reality was five seconds. He shakily touched his now bent nose, feeling wet drops of blood underneath it. “You...you brode my node!” His speech was slurred due to his new nostril alignment, and it made more than a few villagers snicker. “You brode my node! YOU BRODE MY NODE!” No one had ever struck him before, not even his vicious mother. As he rose to his feet, there was only one thing he could think of to do, in response to getting hurt for the very first time in his life.

He ran home bawling to his mother. “MAAAAAA! HE BROOOODE MY NOOOOODE!”

That caused the entire village to burst into joyous laughter, as if a great evil had been vanquished. Goofy stared down at his hand which was still closed into a fist. He wasn't entirely sure what had come over him. His eyes found themselves back on Agalma, who was proudly holding out the money he had lost. “You...you could've gotten real hurt, Agalma.”

“Yes, but we got the money back. And money's important, isn't it? You say you always need more of it, so I couldn't let him have it.” Back in her days of immobility, she'd heard him say time and time again how low his finances were, so she certainly wasn't going to let such a necessity get away, even if she still didn't grasp it all. “Does this make you happy, Goofy?” Would that heal his heart, as Aphrodite wanted?

Had she done this to make him happy? Goofy swallowed, feeling sadness crawl up despite the continuous happiness of those around him, villagers clamoring to each other about how they'd never let the Beagles bully them again. “Money's important, sure, Agalma...but life's much more important. I don't ever want you risking your life like that again, all right?”

Agalma tilted her head, pushing the satchel into Goofy's hands. “Will that _make_ you happy?”

“Yes, but – but – that's not – you shouldn't just do things because of me! You should do things because they're what _you_ want to do!”

“But I want to make you happy,” Agalma replied, growing uneasy at the despair in Goofy's tone. The last time he sounded so upset, he'd ripped the necklace off her body, and she touched her neck again, worried something similar would happen. “Did I do something wrong? Goofy, I just want to help you.”

Goofy didn't have the words to explain the agony in his heart – that she shouldn't feel as if she existed solely for him. How would that be any different than a master owning a slave? She deserved to be her own person, with her own wants and desires, and how would she ever learn to do that if she constantly tried to make him happy? Before his mind could reel any further, he was jostled by the farmer shaking his shoulder. “Why, I've been wanting to do that for years! The one time you don't trip up, and it's for the best thing anyone in the village has ever done!”

“Uh, thanks?” He assumed that was a compliment.

“Listen, if you're that hard up for money, what you ought to do is enter the chariot race next month!” The farmer continued shaking Goofy's shoulder back and forth, his sentences smashing into each other with quick excitement. “In the next town over, my cousin, Sir Gyro De Gearloose, he's been looking for someone to enter the race with! I'll send him a message, I'm sure even you can't mess up that badly! Even third place pays!”

This was more than anyone in the village had ever spoken to him in a lifetime, and it was so overwhelming that Goofy didn't know what to say. So Agalma said it for him. “He'll do it!”

Goofy blinked, still being pushed back and forth, feeling as if his brain was being pushed back and forth as well. “I will?”

“You will!” the farmer agreed, finally letting go so he could clap his hands. “Great! He'll probably want to meet you first, and I'll send him your way! Oh, this is grand, just grand! Maybe we should make this day a holiday – Break A Beagle Day!” He laughed hard at his own joke, already leaving Goofy's sight so he could start his letter.

“What a fun day,” Agalma said, hands on her hips. After a brief moment of thought, she looked at Goofy. “I don't know anything about chariot racing.”

“Neither do I,” Goofy said, his shoulders slumping. “I've heard those things can be really dangerous! Agalma, you shouldn't have agreed right away! Millicent never would've put me through anythin' like that!”

“You said I wasn't Millicent. I'm Agalma.”

It was an obvious fact but a true one all the same. Goofy opened and closed his mouth, unable to think of a reply since – well – wasn't he frustrated because he wanted her to have individuality? It'd certainly be a step backwards if he stopped it now. This kind of thinking was far harder than what he was used to, and a headache was growing. “Well...what's done is done, I suppose,” he finally decided, tossing up the satchel in his hand. “If that Gyro fellow does come on by, I'll just tell him no. I make statues, I ain't good at anythin' else.”

“And you're good at breaking noses,” Agalma said with a smile, lightly poking Goofy's own. And for what felt like the first time in days, Goofy found himself smiling back.

“Maybe so.” He held up a fist, but then he shook his head. “I don't like fightin' folks. I'd prefer things go all peaceful-like... but. Well. Some folks just don't wanna be peaceful. Gotta keep that in mind. Not everyone's gunna stop what they're doin' if we just ask 'em. Never heard of a war that ended with a 'pretty please'. Guess this makes you a whole lot smarter than the rest of us.” Maybe he didn't entirely like this individual named Agalma, but at least she was her own person. An odd person, but a good person. “Thank you, Agalma. For gettin' my coins back.”

Finally satisfied, Agalma's smile appeared to stretch for miles. It wasn't the same dainty prettiness that Millicent had, but a gawky, silly grin. “You're welcome! Now let's finally buy some food! All this excitement made me really hungry! It's not a fun feeling.”

“No it ain't, you're right.” With the matter done with, they resumed their shopping trip, hoping the day's ordeals would only last for today. However not everyone was content with how things ended. Pete would have torn out his hair if he had any, and his fur was too short to do so. He wanted a big, bloody brawl, maybe throw in a food fight, and all he got one was one broken nose and a crybaby? A happy ending with a weird woman and everyone getting along?

“Do I have say 'pretty please' to _start_ a war?!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, even knowing full well no one would hear him. “Cowards, all of you are great big cowards! I want a war! I want any war! Just give me a war, you stupid, weak, useless mortals!” He ranted and raved, stomping around much like a toddler when denied their favorite toy. So what if Bouncer was in pain? Who cared about the pain of a mortal, when Pete's entertainment was at stake!

“You prefer racing over fighting?” Pete snarled when he was in front of the farmer, unable to conjure up any anger in the old man due to the mortal being in such a pleasant mood. “Fine! I'll make it the bloodiest, angriest, most violent race you've ever seen!” Was he being ridiculously petty? Yes. Did he care? No. The only reason mortals existed was to be the pawns of the gods, so it should serve that he could do whatever he wanted to them. He'd make this race one for the history books – maybe he could even invite Aphrodite along, so she could coo and fawn at his ability to manipulate mortals.

Come to think of it, she hadn't been around Mount Olympus lately. With such a gorgeous girl leaving so often, an obvious gap had been created. They had all assumed she would return in time, and since she was the goddess of love and beauty, she was probably admiring her reflection in various rivers or...that was the most Pete could come up with. Since he didn't see past her beauty, he couldn't fathom her doing any differently, despite all the various times she'd snapped and barked at him for doing so. Oh well, she was just a woman, they had different moods all the time. Pretty girls meant empty heads – to think otherwise would mean she was out of his league, and Pete wasn't going to welcome _that_ thought.

Before Pete returned to the mountain to plan, he glimpsed at Agalma once more. He contemplated telling the others on Mount Olympus what he learned, but ultimately decided he wouldn't. If his chariot race didn't work out, she'd be Plan B. For now, he didn't want to solve her mysteries. Mysteries meant thinking, and great thinking was not Pete's specialty. Unlike Minnie, who enjoyed learning new things, Pete detested the idea of learning, as to him it meant he wasn't as smart as he knew he was. He was a god, he knew enough.

Had Pete skipped the entire fight, he might have been on Mount Olympus in time to see his point proven – that learning things didn't always lead to a good time.

~*~

Before Agalma and Goofy went to the market that day, Minnie had returned to Mount Olympus on a mission. It felt like ages since she was last in this fluffy paradise, and she didn't want to stay there long, now that she knew all of its sins and sinners. She hid behind thrones and pillars, hoping to avoid everyone's line of sight. Minnie didn't want to be there any longer than she had to be, and she hoped that luck was on her side as she slowly approached the thrones belonging to Zeus and Hera, king and queen of the gods.

Luck was ignoring her today, however, as not only was Hera there, despondently loafing about, but so was Zeus, who was talking about a visit he had to his brother Poseidon. Hera was barely listening, but Zeus didn't care as he just enjoyed the sound of his own voice. Minnie was momentarily in disbelief that such selfish individuals could have created as loving a soul as Mickey's, but speculating on that would do her no good. She was here for the flowers that grew between the thrones, or more specifically, the nectar that dripped from them.

Ambrosia – the immortal elixir that allowed gods and lesser divine beings to recover from all wounds and avoid the hand of death, even if, as Minnie found out, the hand of death was quite pleasant. If it had saved Daisy, perhaps it could cure Mickey's leg – not that Minnie thought Mickey needed fixing. But he clearly hated it, and blamed many of his misfortunes on it, so perhaps if his leg was “normal” he would be happy. Mickey's happiness meant Minnie's happiness. She might even get a kiss or two of gratitude – if he finally awoke to the fact she was slavishly in love with him. Maybe ambrosia cured obliviousness too.

So how was she supposed to snatch one of those flowers without being caught? Minnie mulled over this, sticking out her lower lip in an adorable pout as she hid behind a column. If she understood it right, gods were supposed to come to the ambrosia, not have it brought to them. If she tried to pluck one, they'd ask questions, and she doubted they'd welcome her answer, given how easily Zeus and Hera abandoned their child. Just thinking about that awful story caused Minnie's grief and anger to rise again, glaring fire at the two most powerful gods in existence whose souls she felt were colder than ice. Mickey didn't long for revenge, but she wouldn't mind it, or at least _a damned apology_ \- 

“Hey babe, long time no see!”

Wow, luck was not only against her, it actively hated her. Minnie didn't have to turn her head to know which one was speaking to her. “Hello, Mortimer,” she whispered, hoping he'd get the clue that she was hiding for a reason.

He didn't. “I've been wondering where your lovely little face has been lately! I tell you, a day without seeing your face is like a day without sunshine! And a day without seeing that behind is like-”

“Can I help you?” Minnie swiftly turned around, hoping she could give him a scrap of attention so he could go away faster. “I'm in the middle of something, so unless you really need me...”

“Of course I really need you! I always really need you.” Mortimer lazily dropped his arm around Minnie's shoulder, wine sloshing in his goblet. In his case, he felt like luck was shining upon him, since he didn't have to share her with anyone else for this brief moment in time. “You know, I've always felt we've had this special connection, you and I. You're a mouse, I'm a mouse. I drink, and people drink up your beauty.” He tried to think of anything else they had in common and came up with nothing. It was good enough. “Everyone's missed you, but I've missed you the most. Now, what is it you're in the middle of, besides my arms?”

Minnie glanced quickly at the flowers before looking back at Mortimer. If there was ever a chance for him to prove to be more than a drunken pervert, this was it, if he could help her grab a flower. Perhaps he could help her sneak to the thrones, since he'd lived here longer than she had. As she carefully thought this over, remembering all the times he'd tried and failed to win her over, something stood out – her first couple of days on Mount Olympus, with all the endless partying over her introduction. Someone had said she was smaller than Hephaestus – and now she could remember who it was. “Mortimer, do you remember what you told me when I first came here?”

“That you were gorgeous, alluring, graceful, dazzling...”

Minnie rolled her eyes as Mortimer went through an entire thesaurus, and she waved her hand to try and speed things up. “Yes, yes, yes, and what else? That I was smaller than Hephaestus?”

“Oh yeah, I did say that, didn't I? Sometimes I'm amazed at my own cleverness. Ha-cha-cha!” He felt he should be rewarded with a big gulp before continuing. “Probably shouldn't have said it, it's a big hush-hush all around these parts. But then I was most likely drunk when I said it. I'm most likely drunk when I say anything. I remember the day that little squirt was born. I always doubted it was Zeus' kid. How could anything from that big guy be so small? And what a name, Hephaestus!”

Those who are inebriated are often unaware of how loud they're speaking, or don't care about their volume, and Mortimer was both. Minnie waved her hands, trying to make him quiet himself. “Mortimer, keep it down!”

“I mean really, Hephaestus? Sounds like a whooping cough!”

“Mortimer, stop saying his name!”

“Stop saying what? Hephaestus?”

Third time's the charm, so it's said. There was only so many times someone could shout the forbidden name before the one who forbade it overheard. Hera suddenly sat up straight, all of the veins popping in her skin, and a screeching, booming voice echoed itself all over the mountain. “WHO DARED SPEAK THAT _ABOMINATION'S NAME?!_ ”

The last time Mount Olympus had gotten this quiet was that odd shaking sensation Minnie had all but forgotten about months ago. She only thought of it now as the same silence was quite the memory maker. It was easily put aside as Hera's inferno eyes found the direction from which the name came. It helped that Mortimer and Minnie were pointing fingers at each other. Mortimer liked Minnie, but he was a coward through and through. Minnie had done it on instinct.

Zeus was hardly so appalled, and he stroked his beard as he gazed upon Minnie more lavishly than she cared for. “ **At ease, Lady Hera! Aphrodite is still a newcomer to our utopia! It is likely she doesn't know about your law. There is no need to frighten such a delicate creature.** ”

“And I was very drunk,” Mortimer quickly added, speaking so quickly that all the grapes growing on his robe began flying off, hitting other deities in the face. “I was so drunk I didn't know what I was saying! I don't know what I'm saying right now! And I am in fact so drunk that if you tried to punish me I'd probably forget all about the horrendous pain you could inflict on me, so it'd be really pointless!” 

Minnie gave him a side eye. “You sound like you've been saving that one.”

“Babe, you need to have one ready when Hera's home.”

“I DON'T CARE HOW LONG SHE'S BEEN HERE OR HOW BEAUTIFUL SHE IS!” Hera screamed, grabbing the arm rests and standing out of her throne. It'd been so long since she'd risen that that in and of itself was a spectacle. There were times were for months all she did was sit and drink, wallowing in self-pity. “That NAME is to _never_ be uttered HERE...I ask for so LITTLE! I suffer so MUCH!” She pointed an accusatory finger at Minnie, causing the far smaller goddess to back up. “No matter how BEAUTIFUL you may be, you have no AUTHORITY higher than I!”

“I don't want authority!” Minnie fired back, even though she was shaking. This terrible excuse for a mother had no right to be making demands. “All I want is- ” And then she saw it.

For ages, Axelia had seemed so familiar yet Minnie could never place a name or face to her. But now that Hera stood up, in all of her flowing robes and supreme glory, Minnie could see who Axelia had been modeled after. Her mouth hung open in shock – had Mickey done so knowingly? Or had it been a subconscious desire to be cared for by the one who loathed him?

As Minnie continued to gape, Zeus straightened up in his seat, lightly pushing on Hera's arm in an attempt to make her sit back down. He was perhaps one of the few individuals who didn't fear Hera's wrath, since he was also one of the few individuals who was more powerful than her. “ **Jealousy does not become you, dearest wife of mine. Though I have given my love to many, only you will ever have my ring!** ” That earned him a wad of spit on his foot. “ **Disappointing, but not surprising.** ” He shook his head, and gave his attention back towards Minnie. “ **Now then! What is it that your heart desires, goddess of love and beauty? Namely ask, and it shall be yours!** ”

Minnie doubted it would be that easy, but if he was going to offer then she'd be a fool not to try. “I'd like to take one of those flowers and bring them to...someone.” Given Hera's reaction, Minnie didn't think saying Mickey's real name again would earn her any favors.

Zeus raised a mighty eyebrow. “ **Someone? Who is this someone?** ”

“Yeah, I wanna know too!” Mortimer yanked Minnie in close again, and now she was close enough to smell his inebriated breath. “Don't tell me you're going sweet on someone, when I'm right here!”

“It doesn't MATTER who.” Hera was back in her seat, slouching over. “The laws are CLEAR. Our flowers are to NEVER leave Mount Olympus. If your SOMEONE wants immortality, you'll have to bring them HERE. You don't get to BREAK the rules because you FLUTTER some eyelashes!”

Zeus nodded, picking one of the flowers up in his fingers. “ **She's right, I'm afraid! Those are the laws of the gods, and none are allowed to break them. It would be as if to break my own will!** ”

Minnie gave this some short thought. “But aren't you two in charge of all the gods? Can't you change the laws any way you want? Didn't _you_ decide I should live here, even though you didn't know a single thing about me?”

Zeus and Hera said nothing, glancing at each other in quiet surprise. Somehow that minuscule application of logic was sending them reeling. Minnie had to wonder how in the world they survived ruling for so long if they were this foolish about the most trivial matters. As Zeus ran his fingers through his beard, Hera began to straighten her back, a devious smirk showing up on her lips. “You know, APHRODITE, you make a most EXCELLENT point. Your arrival here has CHANGED many things here on Mount Olympus. Almost EVERY day, all of the men here FIGHT over you, causing CHAOS and CALAMITY through our once peaceful DAYS! Maybe YOU should be BANISHED from Mount Olympus!”

If she was intending to threaten or intimidate Minnie, it fell flat. “All right,” Minnie replied with a shrug. Being banished from a place she hated to be in didn't exactly scare her. If she knew she could have been banished from here, she would have made an attempt far earlier.

As usual, Minnie received the opposite of help from the peanut gallery. “You can't do that!” Mortimer wailed, clutching his goblet to his chest as if it was his very heart. “She's the best looking thing that's lived here in centuries! You can't banish her!”

“I must oppose as well!” Gladstone joined in the clamor despite no one asking him to, and a choir of anguished voices looking down on the show served as back up all across the realm. “Why must we be punished? We can't help it that she's so beautiful! We're gods, but we're also men! It's in our very blood! There's not a man alive who wouldn't throw themselves at her!”

Minnie could think of at least three men who she wished wouldn't. “ _Please_ banish me now.”

“Stay out of this, Gladstone!” Mortimer snapped, stepping in front of Minnie so he could defend “his” territory. “There wouldn't be any fighting if you would stop trying to take my girl away!”

“Your girl? Don't make me laugh! She clearly prefers me over some buffoon who slurs instead of serenading!”

“I've got a serenade for you – it's called Ode To A Fist!”

“ENOUGH!” Hera barked, stamping her foot on the ground, the sound hard enough to break stone. “Do you SEE what trouble you cause, APHRODITE? You've done NOTHING but bring fights and bloodshed WHEREVER you go!”

“I didn't do anything!” Minnie knew that she'd have an easier time arguing with a brick wall, but if this was her going to be her last day on Mount Olympus, she was going to make it count. “I've told them over and over again I'm not interested! It's not my fault they won't listen! If you two are so high and mighty enough to make laws, aren't you high and mighty enough to make your subjects obey you?” She slapped her hands on her hips, daring Zeus and Hera to defy her words. “If you're in charge, then act like it! If you don't like their behavior, then make them change! Nothing's going to happen if all you do is just sit on your behind and whine all the time!”

Zeus tapped his fingers on his armrest, rumbling deep in his throat. How he detested confrontation – it wasn't fun, and Zeus cared more for fun and pleasure than actually ruling. “ **I suppose asking you to stop being beautiful is the same as asking the sun to stop shining. But I hardly believe a banishment is necessary!** ”

Hera was in a glaring contest with Minnie, but when she closed her eyes, Minnie didn't feel as if she'd won. “You are RIGHT, my HUSBAND. Banishment isn't NECESSARY at all. There's a BETTER way to SOLVE this matter once and for ALL. Aphrodite appears to ENJOY sharing her opinion...so it will be her OPINION that will bring back our peaceful DAYS.”

Minnie was young and still learning many things, but she was no fool. There was no way this would end so easily for her. “There is?” she asked skeptically, clearing a bit of cloud from under her in case she needed to make a quick escape. She could always banish herself, after all.

Hera opened her eyes, and raised a single finger. “It is quite SIMPLE. In order to END the fighting and reserve Aphrodite's RIGHTFUL place on Mount Olympus...she must MARRY whichever god she chooses.”

 _Nope nope nope_ – but Minnie wasn't able to leap and escape, because Mortimer had grabbed yet again in what he saw as victory. “And she's going to choose me! Let's set a date, babe!”

“The only wedding you're going to is ours, Mortimer!” Gladstone had seized Minnie's other arm, ready to play tug-of-war. “And that's if I feel in a good enough mood to invite you!”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Minnie screamed, pulling her arms hard enough to knock Mortimer and Gladstone's heads together. “I will NOT marry anyone! That's not a solution at all! Just tell them to stop fighting!”

“ **But this would stop the fighting,** ” Zeus settled his folded hands in his lap, glad that the matter was “dealt” with. “ **Just choose a man, surely even you can do that.** ”

“And WE make the laws, REMEMBER?” Hera sneered, enjoying the anger twisting Minnie's features – although Minnie was still astonishingly adorable even when furious. “And it is a LAW now! You WILL choose a god! And if you DON'T-”

“I refuse! I won't marry someone I won't love!”

At this, Gladstone, Mortimer, and the other contenders all began listing their reasons why she could fall in love with them.  
“I'd destroy the stars for you!”  
“I can turn guys into dolphins!”  
“I can do a handstand!”  
Which, amazingly enough, did not earn Minnie's favor.

“ **As you said, I am your ruler.** ” Zeus' voice rumbled, annoyed that Minnie was making this more difficult than it had to be. “ **You have no choice. You must choose a god to marry!** ”

“I will not!” Minnie stamped her foot down again and again, the ends of her dress beginning to burn up like wood in a fire. The ground began to rumble again, the one that shouldn't have been possible on the mountain. “You can't make me! There is absolutely no way I will ever, ever, EVER marry any of them! There isn't a single god I would ever want to-”

_Wait a minute._

Minnie paused in mid-rant, raising an eyebrow as an idea came to her. She slowly began to smooth down her dress, as a calculating smile curled across her lips, and even the ends of her dress suddenly stopped burning, instead poofing up into lace. She calmly pressed her hands together and batted her eyelashes. “Do forgive me, dear Zeus. You know how silly we women can be, just letting our temper run rampant. Let me just ask one itty bitty question. If I did choose a man to eventually marry, does that mean you _promise_ the others can't fight over me anymore?”

“ **Ah, now you finally see our wisdom! **” Zeus laughed before her answered her. “ **Indeed, all shall be made to accept your decision. I will not have them turn Mount Olympus upside down because they were a sore loser.** ”****

****“Just what I wanted to hear,” Minnie chirped pleasantly, swinging her hands together as any demure damsel would. “Because I do believe I've made my choice. I know exactly who I'd like to marry. Someday.”** **

****Gladstone ran a comb through his hair, believing himself to be the winner. Mortimer smoothed down his robes, thinking something similar, and the other gods also began to make themselves more presentable for their supposed victory. “You see, the man I want to marry,” Minnie began, sighing happily and closing her eyes as she pictured him, “is not only a handsome fellow, but also ever so kind, and creative, and smart, and funny, and just about the most perfect man I've ever known. I absolutely adore him, and I feel like I was born to meet him.” Naturally, all the silly men assumed she was describing them, and their grins became wider. “He's positively perfect in every way, and I would be happy just to watch over him for the rest of my life. He's got the most brilliant eyes, and the cutest smile, and-”** **

****“Sometime this CENTURY, Aphrodite,” Hera grumbled, trying to figure out why her plan suddenly made Minnie happier instead of a crying wretch as desired.** **

****“Sorry.” Minnie giggled adorably, swaying her dress around. “His name is...Hephaestus.”** **

****Was it possible to enjoy silence this much? Silence struck all the powerful deities, until a voice way in the back of the line asked, “Who is Hephaestus?” Minnie treasured it, just as much as she treasured the dropped jaw from Zeus.** **

****Hera shook with the rage of a million betrayed women, teeth turning to sharp fangs as she leapt out of her throne. “YOU DARE MOCK ME?!” Her voice cracked the sky, sending many of the disappointed bachelors running.** **

****“Mock? Never.” This time Minnie refused to back away, holding her ground for her last stand. “You said a god, I picked a god. You never said I had to choose one that was on Mount Olympus. And since I've chosen a god that doesn't live here, that means I don't have to live here either.”** **

****“This is a joke!” Mortimer tried to insist with a nervous laugh. “She's going to make her real choice now. Right, doll?”** **

****Minnie tilted her head back at the gobsmacked would-be grooms, smiling from one big ear to the other. “I do believe Zeus said you weren't going to fight over me once I made a choice. Right?”** **

****Even Zeus appeared to be thrown off, grasping for words before clearing his throat. “ **Er...Um...I mean, yes, it is as I have decreed! She has made her decision, and that is final. Even if we don't understand it.** ” A pause. “ **We need to start putting more thought into our decrees.** ”** **

****“Well now, I feel much better.” Minnie curtsied once to Zeus before jumping down into the mortal plane. As far as Minnie was concerned, this all worked out perfectly. None of the other gods ever visited Mickey, so there was no chance anyone was going to tell him what had happened. If he was unknown or hated, that wasn't going to change anytime soon. It'd just be a secret to keep from Mickey – well, another one. Surely adding one more wouldn't hurt.** **

****And she would tell him about this odd little agreement. And her real name. She would, eventually, someday, far off in the horizon. She'd probably tell him. Maybe she'd tell him.** **

****That was about the time when Pete returned to the mountain. He was going to huff off to his chambers, but he saw Hera pulling out her own hair, and a crowd of men who were so stunned and motionless one could mistake them for statues.** **

****“...Did I miss somethin'?”** **


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my editors Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> MICKEY SHE LOVES YOU, SOMEONE SMACK THIS BOY WITH A CLUE BY FOUR.
> 
> Also, Neraja and Garma are disney characters from the comic book series Wizards of Mickey!

Mickey truly and deeply loved his odd family of mermaids and nereids, despite the headaches and annoyances they could give him on a daily basis. They weren't the smartest fish in the sea, but they had good hearts and treated him well. Yet when Mickey headed out that day to see them, it was with great reluctance and hesitation. He needed help with a problem and he had no one else to turn to. The Axelias only knew what Mickey told them, and as for Minnie...well, the problem was about her. That was everyone here in his social circle, so he had no choice but to turn to his girls for aid. Whether they'd actually be of use was anyone's guess, but he had to try.

Their usual morning started out as it always did. He gave them whatever trinkets they had previously requested, they gave him fresh fish to eat, and then they dissolved into babbling about whatever sparkly thing had caught their attention an hour or two ago. Once everything appeared to have settled, Mickey loudly cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. The majority of the women turned their heads, but one or two still kept their conversation going. Mickey didn't mind.

“I need to ask you girls some questions,” Mickey said, his cheeks already starting to burn despite the whole embarrassing ordeal having only just begun. “But you can't tell anyone else about this, okay? Not even Minnie.”

“Why not?”  
“Is this a new rule, like the No-Aphrodite rule?”  
“You broke the rule!”  
“I did not!”  
“Minnie is very pretty, I like Minnie.”

Clearly things were off to a fantastic start. “Because I said so, that's why,” Mickey cut in before they could distract themselves even further from the topic at hand. Thankfully the girls appeared to accept his curt reasoning. “All right, first question. I know some of you got boyfriends and girlfriends and folks you...you...” Oh boy, the word itself was already giving him trouble. “You know, you... you really...” He desperately hoped they'd catch on so he wouldn't have to say it, but instead he merely had an audience of slow blinkers. “You...you...” He cleared his throat again and turned his head away, mumbling, his tongue feeling like taffy. “Okay, just...how do you know when you...luh...luuuhhh... _love_ someone?”

Growing up, Mickey had heard the mermaids and nereids happily talk about men they had caught for themselves. To Mickey, that whole concept had seemed as distant as any other island. When he listened to them talk, it often sounded more like they'd caught another shiny bauble than had any genuine feelings for someone. But every so often a mermaid would fall for another mermaid, or a nereid with a nereid, or one for the other. Young Mickey had difficulty understanding the difference between this and friendship. At first it didn't seem any different than how they treated the other girls. All of the women in the water hung off each other, complimented each other freely, gave away kisses, it was all standard. But little by little Mickey had taken note of the subtle nuances of each relationship – like Delphina and Cyrena, who sometimes went whole minutes without saying anything, instead more than content to lean on each other and stroke each other's hair. Or Eleni and Feodora, who instead of asking for jewelry for themselves instead asked Mickey to make something for their other, wanting to match perfectly.

If these strange, bubbling, happy feelings toward Minnie were love, then Mickey had to do something about it. But first he had to _know_ if these strange, bubbling, happy feelings were love. Mickey needed things in his life to be precise and accurate.

The girls had never been asked such a serious question before, and they gave it serious thought – as serious as they could make it, anyway. “Kissing!” one nereid volunteered, her hair so thick that clown fish often hid in it to hide from predators. “When you love someone, you want to kiss them a lot!”

Mickey thought he was in trouble before an elder mermaid spoke up, wearing a self-made “scarf” of seaweed. “That's not true! You can love someone and never ever kiss them. My third husband and I never kissed but I loved him very much. Love isn't about touching. Love is about feeling.”

“Yes, feelings, feelings! It feels good!”  
“Love feels very good!”  
“I want to feel love!”  
“I love you very much!”  
“Aw, I love you very much too!”

Mickey snapped his fingers three times in a row to keep things back on track. “Look, I know love is a _feeling_. Sheesh.” He rolled his eyes. “I need to know if that's what I'm feeling! Or is it just friendship? How do I know which is which?”

Either Mickey wasn't being as sneaky as he thought he was, or his family was a whole lot smarter than he gave them credit for, because it was Aquata who looked him right in the eye and said while pointing her finger, “It's Minnie.”

“What - no! No it's not!” It was perhaps the most pathetic attempt at lying he'd ever made.

“Who else would it be?”  
“You're not in love with any of us, are you?”  
“And not with Axelia. Wouldn't say Axelia.”  
“Mickey loves Minnie! Mickey loves Minnie!”  
“You spend a lot of time with her, more her than us.”  
“And she makes you happy happy happy.”  
“You smiiile when you talk about her.”  
“And you talk about her a looot.”

Of all the times for them to actually pay attention to something! Mickey rubbed his face over and over, trying to find something to deny but they were right on the mark. The warm sensation in his chest never happened with any of the mermaids and nereids, nor with Axelia. As much as he enjoyed his time with all of them, spending time with Minnie was different. She engaged him, she wanted to learn, she was fascinated with everything he came up with. She valued his happiness and wanted to bring it to life day after day. Whenever she did speak about her life, it was only about the friends she made or who she adored and wished to help. She was sweet, and kind, and caring, and clever, and adorable, and _oh no_ , he did love her, didn't he?

“Well,” Mickey said, but no argument came forth, the word running out of his mouth like a stalled motor puttering and broken, in a silly attempt to get his brain working. “Well. Well. Well. Well!” Eventually the word stopped sounding like a word and just sounded like babbling, which his girls copied in amusement. “Well, okay, so, maybe, maybe, just maybe, I luhhh. I luuuhhhh. I _love_ her. A little bit. DON'T START CELEBRATING!” He knew that was coming and with his hand out, he put an end to it before it even began, several girls frozen in cheering poses. “The second question is much more important.”

“You want to know how to make her love you,” Calista guessed, and many nodded with her in agreement. 

“Of course not.” Mickey's temper cooled – if he was in her shoes – well, scales – he'd have made the same assumption too. “A girl like that deserves better. And I don't wanna ruin the nice thing we have going. She's a great gal, a great friend. The sooner I stop luh- _luuuh_ -having those feelings, the less awkward things gotta be.” The idea of Minnie loving him never crossed his mind. That'd be madness. A girl that fantastic and a reject weakling like him?

Even if she said there was nothing wrong with him. Even if she accepted all of him. Even if she cried over his past and had apparently devoted her life to his happiness. None of that meant she could love him. She was just being a very, very, VERY good friend. Of course. Obviously. Maybe she acted like that towards all her friends – although that idea made his stomach churn.

Andria raised her hand. “Think about all the stuff you don't love about her! Like how...” She trailed off, trying to find a negative point about Mickey's friend and unable to come up with one. Rare silence fell over the group as they all tried to come up with her faults and came up with nothing, save for wordless gestures and scratching of heads.

Yet Mickey thought it was a good idea. “No, that's good! That's good, Andria, good girl.” Andria beamed, even if she didn't understand. “See, you guys aren't with her as much as I am, she's got some bad stuff about her too. Like, sometimes when I'm working, she'll sit on the floor and lay her head on my lap and just watch me.”

Rydia squinted. “That doesn't sound bad at all.”

“Of course it's bad! When she does that, I can't concentrate at all! And then there's times, like, with the boat! She'll make me want to do something I don't like to do.”

Damara clicked her tongue. “Didn't you wind up liking that a whole lot? You told us you wanted to make an even better boat after seeing it.”

“Yeah, well, um, that's just more work for me!” Oh boy, he really did love Minnie, didn't he? Did he ever stand a chance? “Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.”

“I've got an idea, but it'll break a rule,” Lydia offered, swimming up to be closer to Mickey. “Is that okay?”

“Fine, but just this once.” He patted her head to reassure her she wouldn't be doing anything wrong.

With permission granted, Lydia gained more confidence, and began to clap her hands in her water, making big splashes. “Just pretend she's Aphrodite! You hate Aphrodite, so if you pretend Minnie is Aphrodite, you won't love her at all!”

“Hmmmm.” Mickey shifted around on the sandy shore, uncomfortable with the suggestion. “I don't know...Minnie's nothing like Aphrodite. She doesn't use her looks to get what she wants. She works hard, and she's smart! Not some air-headed beauty who just sits on Olympus and lets everyone tell her how nice she looks. Minnie's not like that. That's like comparing apples and oranges!”

“I like apples and oranges!”  
“They're both very yummy.”  
“Are we allowed to talk about Aphrodite now?”  
“Poseidon told me she's getting married!”

Mickey sighed, shaking his head. He thought of reinforcing the rule, but the girls had clearly done their best to give him their honest opinion and help him out, so he let them rattle on with silly gossip for a little bit more. What was the harm?

“Is she? Who is she marrying?”  
“She's marrying Hephaestus.”  
“Isn't Hephaestus Mickey's name?”  
“Mickey's name is Mickey!”

The harm was being so stunned Mickey almost slid into the water. “Wait a minute, back up, back up!” he yelped, flailing his arms about. “Did you say Aphrodite is going to marry Hephaestus?!” He then jabbed a thumb at his chest to remind them that, yes, he was Hephaestus.

Tallia had been the one to hear the rumor, and as she leaned her head back in thought, she remembered that, oh yeah, he was Hephaestus, wasn't he? “Poseidon said that's what she said. She said she was in love with Hephaestus and she'd marry him. It made Queen Hera very, very mad. Are you going to marry Aphrodite? I thought you hated her.”

“Of – of course I'm not marrying her!” Mickey sputtered, a hand to his head as he tried to find some logic to this revelation. What in the world had happened up on the Mountain? Why would a goddess, the goddess of love and beauty, want to marry him? It made no sense – and then his anger returned, hard and hot, as he found the only reason she would do such a thing. “Why, she's just making fun of me! To her, I bet it's some big funny joke!”

Tallia tilted her head. “I don't get it.”

“She's mocking me! She must've learned about me, and thought it'd be a gag to say that the goddess of love is marrying the ugliest god! The goddess who everyone accepted right from the get-go, and the god who got thrown off when he was born! I bet she thinks that's rich!” Each word became hotter, a rabid snarl as he imagined some vapid beauty laughing cruelly at his life, eating it up with the other snobby gods and goddesses on Mount Olympus. Why not? His whole life was a joke. Well fine, what did he care? _I don't need nobody and nobody needs me -_

Ah. But. That wasn't true anymore, was it?

Mickey's growling stopped, replaced with somber silence. His tense muscles relaxed, his anger evaporating, and he glanced at his reflection in the water. But instead of seeing his face, he saw Minnie, sweet Minnie, who had held him and kissed his leg and would never leave him. She'd never do anything to hurt him.

“Minnie would never do that,” Mickey said quietly, watching Minnie's image vanish in a few ripples. “She's not like Aphrodite at all.”

Normally when Mickey's anger, or more specifically his sorrow in reaction to any form of pity, was at its highest it was impossible to calm him back down. He would rant and rave and return to his cave to vent out his aggression on his projects. Yet here and now, the girls saw that he managed to calm himself down all by himself just by thinking of Minnie. They'd already liked her because she was so pretty and because she was Mickey's friend, but this solidly sold her on them forever. If Minnie made Mickey happy, why, she was the best woman in the whole wide world.

“I like Minnie a whole lot,” Rydia said, and in short time was joined by the others.  
“I do too. I want her to stay with Mickey forever.”  
“I love Minnie lots.”  
“Mickey and Minnie should get married!”  
“I wanna go to Mickey's wedding!”

Mickey smiled, and moved to stroke the hair of whoever was closest, allowing them to speak of weddings and pretty dresses and all the other tangents that grew from it without interruption. He doubted he was going to get any better advice, and decided to leave it at that. In time, he'd get over his feelings for Minnie. Since they were both immortal, they had eternity to change, and Mickey was confident that one day he wouldn't feel any love for Minnie. How, he couldn't say. It wasn't as if he was going to get sick of her curious questions or the feel of her hand atop his own, definitely not anytime soon.

Minnie was good and sweet, and deserved any man she wanted. He mused that such a soul would be the luckiest man in existence. For now he was content to be with his family, engaging them in whatever drivel they were yammering on about – he topic of weddings had led to rings and now the mermaids wanted rings on their tails – and his heart didn't ache. Instead of dreading or planning for the future, he ultimately decided to just be happy with what he had.

Minnie's tiara would be ready soon.

~*~

Deep in the furthest depths of the Underworld lived three people Donald didn't enjoy visiting. He avoided them whenever possible, as they gave him the creeps whenever they had a conversation – and he was well aware of the irony of the Lord Of The Dead getting creeped out. The Sisters of Fate were the keepers of mortal life, spinning the threads of life and snipping them when it was time to die. On several occasions Donald had come to them, reluctantly pleading for a mortal's life to be extended due to sad circumstances. He hated being seen as a softie, even if Daisy found it charming. The Sisters tended to mock his sympathies, and regularly abused it to make him beg on his knees for what he wanted or demand luxurious gifts. They knew that no matter how harsh they were, Donald couldn't punish them. Who else knew how to thread mortal life?

They absolutely _never_ reached out to him, which meant that today the Underworld must have frozen over, since that's what they did. Donald was working on his schedule, trying to figure out the best time for him to see the nephew he'd never visited. He wasn't confident he could do it alone, and Daisy assured him that she and Minnie would be there. Then there was the matter of what exactly to say to the boy – other than an extremely overdue apology – and how he should present himself. Should he be natural as he was, Donald? Or try to impress him as the Master of the Underworld, Hades? He was pacing about, writing on an endless scroll, his mind bouncing about.

Should he get on his hands and knees? Or just hug Mickey when he saw him? Should he get his nephew a gift? Maybe invite him to the Underworld to see what it was like? He was so lost in these thoughts he didn't see the thin yellow thread sliding its way towards his foot – but he certainly felt it wrap around his ankle, and in the second he looked down to see what was going on, it yanked him off his feet and speedily began to drag him away across the cave floor.

On the River Styx laid islands inhabited by spirits, and each spirit stopped what they were doing when they heard a deafening “WAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHH!” echo across the Underworld, followed by several expletives so harsh that elder ghosts covered their descendants' ears. To save whatever is left of Donald's dignity, there's no need to go into all the bumps, corners, jagged rocks and near drownings he endured as a result of his dragging. It ended in roughly five minutes as he entered the lair of the Sisters of Fate, his belly scratched and aching, and having poofed into his smoky form about six different times. The thread untied itself from his ankle and laid down, now as normal and lifeless as thread should be.

Donald took one look where he was. “ **YOU CAN'T JUST WALK OUT AND ASK FOR ME LIKE A NORMAL PERSON?!** ” Whereas most mortals would tremble and cry at his thunderous voice, the Sisters just scoffed in unison.

“Why should we ever have to leave our home?” asked Neraja, the Sister of the Past, and the youngest by seconds. All three were ducks with soft white feathers, but Neraja was not only the tallest, towering over her sisters and her own spinning wheel, she was also the most beautiful. She had raven night hair spilling down to her feet, and eyes equally dark and alluring. Her flowing silk dress so deeply red that it would have been easy to mistake it for blood, and her arms were coated in trinkets symbolizing the moon and planets. It was her duty to pull along the threads of life so mortals could be born, and even now her hands were effortlessly pulling forth threads in all of her fingers, birthing several mortals at once across the world.

“You should be honored we've called upon you,” declared Magica, the Sister of the Present, the middle child. She was a head shorter than Neraja, and the shortness also applied to hair that stopped at her shoulders, and a dress that cut off at her knees. Her outfit contained fading red and darkening purple, depending on how the candles in the cave were flickering. Her legs had ringlets of solid gold in perfectly shaped circles. It was her duty to keep the threads smooth during one's life, and cross and tie them over if certain lives were destined to meet and entwine. At the moment she was untangling a pair of lovers that had argued they should split up for good, and Magica was taking great enjoyment from it.

“It's deplorable that you show us such disrespect,” came with a snort from Garma, the Sister of the Future, the eldest of the siblings, and with all the wrinkles on her face, one might have thought she was older by centuries. She was the smallest of the three, with a hunched back and blue veins throbbing underneath her dry feathers, her fraying gray hair dyed yellow in a pathetic attempt to hide this. Her dress had become so dark and faded it was impossible to tell what it once was, especially given how tattered and ripped it was, though she wore each tear like a badge of honor. Sharp teeth jutted from her beak, even showing when her mouth was closed. It was her duty to cut the thread when a mortal's life was up, and out of all the sisters, she enjoyed her job the most. Her scissors cut the air even now, eager to sever a living person from their body of flesh.

By this time Donald had managed to poof back into his normal form, and once the make-up was off he stood to attention and crossed his arms. “There's no way you hags invited me here for a pleasant chit-chat, so what did you need me so badly for?”

The Sisters grumbled together, reluctant to come forward and admit there was a problem. Impatient Neraja straightened her back, sticking out her chest – ever since Donald had married, she had tried to tease and flirt with him, but he'd never taken the bait, which was a great wound to her pride. Even now he looked at her eyes and nowhere else. “There's something amiss with one of the threads.”

Donald blinked, looking at the millions of threads that laid on the floor, hung on the walls, roped the ceiling – it was impossible to know what the room really looked like, since everything was covered in different colored threads. He wasn't even sure if the Sisters had seats to sit on, or if the threads were so intricately wound and numerous that they could solidify and be sat upon. He never cared to ask. “How can you tell?”

Magica crossed her arms, glaring at Donald who glared back. “We've been at this since the first mortal was given life, we've never had _this_ happen before!” She got out of her stone chair – oh, so they did have seats, Donald mused to himself – and strutted up to Donald, holding up a single white thread in his face. “Look at this!”

Donald looked at what he saw as a perfectly normal thread. If the Sisters said there was something wrong with it, then it had to be wrong, since they took pride in their work and hated being around Donald. He didn't want to come across as a fool by saying he couldn't see what the problem was, so he sucked on the inside of his cheek and squinted. With every passing second, the Sisters' eyes became harder, and he could feel himself shrinking. If only Daisy was here today, she'd give these women what for! Any insult they lobbed at her she could give back twice as hard. She wouldn't allow them to cut Donald down - 

_Cut?_ Donald blinked, and then reached over to touch the beginning of the thread – which indeed looked too perfect, too even, as if it'd been cut with a precise sharp object. “Say,” he finally spoke out loud, rubbing the end with his fingers. “Garma's only supposed to cut the end of it, right?”

“I didn't cut it at all!” Garma hissed, her old bones loudly clicking underneath her flesh, her elbows sticking out in angry flutters. “How dare you imply that I would! I have half a mind to come down there and cut off your beak!” Garma sat atop the highest seated platform, so she could look down upon her sisters. Magica's and Neraja's were evenly spaced and evenly sized, as they often teamed up to insult their elder, when they weren't insulting each other.

“The old biddy is right,” Neraja said while sliding a sleeve of her dress down her shoulder. Still no reaction, as Donald was studying the thread intensely. Peeved, she rolled it back up, deciding to stick to business, or at least what she saw as her business. “She knows her place. She'd never cut a thread before it's time.”

“Who are you calling an old biddy, you impetuous brat!”  
“Don't tell me you're going deaf, you stupid shrew!”

If Magica had joined in, Donald would have been more than happy to put the whole weird matter behind and leave as fast as his feet could carry him. But Magica was even-minded, sometimes, and she managed to stay focused. “Neraja has no memory of spinning this thread! It happened many days ago, I was pulling along as usual, and that's when I found this abrupt beginning of life!”

“And only felt like telling me now, I see,” Donald muttered under his breath. No doubt the catty ducks had thought they could solve this issue on their own, and only “asked” for Donald's assistance when they realized they couldn't. He drew himself up, trying to figure it out, scratching his head with one finger. “So if I've got this right, instead of being born, this person just...suddenly...appeared out of nowhere and lived? Is that even possible?” It was a silly question because it couldn't be answered, but he had no clue how they thought he'd be of any use. “I guess I could try and look into it, but if it's just the once and it's done no harm, is it really that important?”

Neraja answered that first by throwing one of her sandals at his face. “Of course it's important! Creating life is MY job!”

“And if you don't figure this out,” Garma snarled, pointing her sharp scissors in Donald's direction, “We'll never do another favor for you for the rest of eternity! No matter how hard you beg!”

“Noted,” Donald sighed, rubbing the sore spot where the sandal had smacked. “Okay, fine, I'll look into it, but I can't make any promises. Can you tell me anything about this mystery person?”

Magica rubbed her fingers along the thread, her eyes momentarily reflecting the color of the thread, a marble white. “A young woman who lives with a sculptor...She knows nothing and must learn everything. She has been called a heroine in this humble village. At first she only wanted to please her man, but now she seeks to understand how the heart works.”

“Yeah, that's not a needle in a haystack at all,” Donald replied dryly, unimpressed by Magica's mystic mutterings. He managed to back up before she could kick him in the shin. “I said I'll do it already! But you have to keep your word too! As long as I'm making the effort, you still have to listen to my requests.”

Neraja cackled, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Of course we'll still listen to your pathetic wails over mortal life! It's one of the highlights of our lives! Seeing the great and mighty Hades grovel like a dog...”

“...All for the life of an insignificant peon!” Garma finished, laughing and knocking her head back as she found it funnier and funnier. “The lord of the dead who doesn't want any dead!”

This time Magica did join in, curling the thread around her fingers as she sneered. “Never forget, we hold the real power here! You will always be beneath us!”

“Sure, whatever,” Donald smoothed down his robes, the insults having gotten pretty dull since he'd been hearing them for years. What were once daggers to his soul were now more like yippy Chihuahuas nibbling at his ankles. At times he wondered if they acted this way because they were lonely and wanted attention, even if it was poisonous, and so he was often the one feeling pity for them. Not that he'd ever tell them – they couldn't kill him, but they'd make him wish for it. If these miserable crones enjoyed being miserable, let them go at it. “I'll keep you updated.” Relieved that it was done, he headed for the circular exit of the cave.

“One more thing, Lord Hades,” Garma voice was low and dangerous as she glowered at him, and the others followed suit, lowering their heads and rubbing their hands together.

“Of course,” Donald groaned, and turned right back around. “What now?”

“We have seen a prophecy,” Garma announced, standing up tall, as did her siblings. “And it must be heard!” It wasn't often, but sometimes in the course of their duties, a spark would fly from the various threads, giving all three Sisters a vision of a possible future. It wasn't guaranteed, but whenever they had one, it had been ordered that Zeus was to be told immediately. They would tell Donald, who would tell Fethry, who would tell Zeus, who would then announce it to everyone else. It had been a rule established since the first prophecy prediction, which had said Zeus would overthrow his father, although later prophecies had never been so momentous.

Donald raised an eyebrow. “The last time you guys chucked out a big one, you said Zeus would be dethroned by a son. I don't see that happening anytime soon.” If what Daisy had told him was correct, Mickey was in no shape to overthrow anyone, nor had a desire to. Zeus probably had hundreds of sons and daughters out in the mortal and godly planes, but so far none of them wanted his seat either. Not all of their prophecies came true, but for a big one to fail like that – it didn't bode well for the rest.

“It could still happen,” Neraja defended, though her shoulders were slumping in defeat.

Magica ignored her and continued on from Garma. “In the near future, a great and bloody war will overtake the mortals! Thousands will perish, and the war will be endless! The Underworld will be flooded with the souls of the innocent! The will of Ares will bring about an end to mankind as we know it!” She drew up her hands, fingers twitching as if she was raining down souls from her fingernails.

Donald stared at all three of them, his temper threatening to rise, but he managed to stave it off. For a second. “You know, if I actually believed you, I would have suggested that you should have SAID THAT WHOLE THING FIRST **BEFORE GOING ON ABOUT SOME STUPID THREAD!** ” Now it was he who towered over them in his form of deadly smog and glistening red eyes. “ **HAVE YOU BEEN HOLDING BACK ON ANYTHING ELSE?! OR DO YOU WITCHES JUST LIKE TORMENTING ME?!** ”

“Yep.”  
“Absolutely.”  
“Well, duh.”

Honestly, what kind of answer was he expecting? He scowled at them a moment longer before poofing back to normal, not bothering with his make-up or ponytail or any other additions his anger tended to give him. “Doggone stubborn little...” He stormed out of the cave, cursing his rotten luck that his job was saddled with those wretches. He would tell Fethry about the prophecy, but he sincerely didn't believe a word of it. The will of Ares? Puh-leeze! Pete was a lazy slob who preferred to watch people fight, and threw temper tantrums when people got along. Besides, Zeus, as lazy as he was, would surely prevent the “end of mankind”. He enjoyed the physical pleasures of it so much he'd never let it die out. Prophecies were merely one path out of millions. It was not a guarantee of anything.

With that in mind, Donald decided he wouldn't bring Mickey down and risk any chance of running into the Sisters. They didn't deserve a chance to meet his nephew, and he wouldn't subject Mickey to their sadistic whims. As his anger cooled, Donald reasoned that he should also find a way to thank Minnie for finding Mickey in the first place. He'd only met her once, but he found her charming and sweet. He wouldn't mind seeing her again, and much like Daisy, he found an urge to protect her from the things she was only just discovering.

He slowed his walk as he remembered that she too was an unusual discovery. It seemed like ages ago when all of the gods, goddesses and lower creatures were struck with that odd sensation, that “something was coming.” That “something” had been Minnie, and then everyone went on as normal without ever questioning where she'd come from. Much like the odd mortal thread, he supposed, which indicated a mortal merely popped into life. Maybe the two were connected somehow, though he was sure Minnie would have brought it up to Daisy if she'd known anything. The two were as close as actual loving sisters, as opposed to the hateful brew back in the cave. Seeing Daisy speak so happily of her friend was quite entertaining, and while Daisy would try to deny she felt that strongly, it was clear that Daisy adored Minnie and would do almost anything for her.

Still, that made two mysteries in one short leap of time. Instead of concerning themselves over one mortal, shouldn't everyone be more worried about one goddess? Mortals couldn't come from nothing, and neither could gods. Gods had to be born too. That was the only way.

…Well. There was _one_ other way to create a god.

But the idea of Minnie being created in such a way was so ludicrous that Donald slapped his own head for even imagining the concept. What had he been thinking? He should be concentrating on Mickey first, then the thread, before thinking about the impossible. When nearby spirits asked what had happened, he told them it was nothing important and they accepted it at face value. Donald resumed his planning, and chose not to give Mickey a gift, since he didn't know Mickey well enough to know what he liked, and chose to merely be himself when they met. It took up all of his day.

Yet far, far back in the reaches of his mind, the idea of the other way lingered, and one day it would be visited again. Only a handful of gods knew about this method, and they had no reason to speak of it because it hadn't happened since the dawn of creation. There was no way it could have happened again.

But. But! _But!_ The almighty word that lingered and created frightening yet fascinating possibilities.

But if she had been born _that_ way, then Minnie had the potential to be more powerful than Zeus and Hera combined. She would have enough power to topple Mount Olympus and burn the world itself to ash and dust.

What Donald didn't know was this was also one of the possibilities and prophecies that the Sisters of Fate had seen. They'd deemed it so ridiculous that they didn't bother to speak of it. Yet it was still out there, along with infinite others on the horizon.

The day ended with no questions answered.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted. Some days I wonder how they put up with me.
> 
> Not sure what else to say this time around, so I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter.

Today was going to be an exciting day, although Mickey couldn't have guessed that. Normally, the most exciting thing that happened these days was Minnie taking him out on boat rides, which tended to happen two to three times a week. With each trip, he became a little less scared and a little more adventurous. They would dare to sail near giant mountains and quiet towns, but never went ashore. On rare occasions, they would pass mortal sailors and observe their work. The mortals never saw the gods, but a feeling of relaxation and calmness would wash over them, as if the sailors were in a safe place and no harm would come to them. Mickey was fascinated to see other living beings, and couldn't ask for anything to make him happier.

Although to be fair, he hadn't asked for anything to make him happier before he met Minnie. He thought he was content, but then her presence blew the meaning of the word out of the water. Then he thought he was satisfied with just their daily talks in his cave, but when she brought him the world of the boat, that word was smashed as well. So if he was feeling fulfilled _now_ , what else would she do to toss that word away? He was no longer anxious or nervous about it. No, he looked forward to it, whatever it may be. But on that day, all was normal as Mickey hammered away on his projects, and he had no reason to suspect it would be vastly different. As he heard Minnie's skipping feet off in the cave entrance, he straightened his back and smoothed down his robes.

Since he had no way of knowing when Minnie would show up, Mickey had taken to bathing and grooming himself each day – and, surprisingly, found that this gave him more energy and even a boost to his health. He didn't know it, but finally taking care of himself changed his appearance as well. His fur was smoother, he no longer had bags under his eyes, and there was a warmth to his face that couldn't be put into words – not that he'd understand if anyone told him so. He picked up his walking stick, readying himself to get up if need be. “Hello, Minnie,” he said pleasantly as she entered the room. “How've you been?”

The discussion with his fish family made two things clear – Mickey was deeply in love with his best friend, and he would absolutely never tell her. He wasn't going to risk ruining this blessing with his burdensome feelings. Whether they would go away or not remained to be seen, and they had an eternity between them to settle things.

Yet it was Minnie who seemed nervous, standing in the entrance and swinging her clasped hands around her waist. “Hello, Mickey,” she replied, moving her lips here and there as if she was trying to find the word rights to say. “If you'd like...there's a lot we can do today. It'll be more than we've ever done before. Is that all right?”

Some time ago, maybe even a month, those words might have chilled Mickey's blood and made him apprehensive, clinging to his walking stick like it'd protect him. Now Mickey just smiled, finding amusement in her shyness, and his heart beat faster, eager to see what unusual surprise she'd bring out this time. “It's all right with me!” he assured her, beginning to get up onto his feet. “Are you gunna keep me waitin', or tell me what's goin' on?”

His enthusiasm loosened Minnie's nerves, and she glanced back behind her – at what, Mickey couldn't see, it could only have been his robotic servants at work. Yet now that he was looking that direction, were there more shadows than usual? “Well, the thing is,” Minnie continued, snapping Mickey back to attention, “I'd like you to meet all of my friends, since I've met all of yours.”

A flicker of hesitation lit in Mickey's mind, glancing at his leg for half a second. His usual paranoia and self-loathing wanted to take over and insist that no one would want to meet him – and then they were soundly kicked out by his ever growing confidence. If they were Minnie's friends, then obviously they were good and decent people! He had no right to judge or assume what they thought without meeting them firsthand. Truth be told, given all the stories he'd heard about this “Daisy” and “Donald”, he was interested in meeting them. Whenever Minnie wasn't with Mickey, she was usually with Daisy, sailing or strolling or exploring the land all over the mortal plane. This didn't entirely wash away his shaky concern, but it wasn't as large as it could have been. “Should I spruce up the place?” he joked, beginning to walk toward her. “I'm afraid all of my doilies and fancy silverware are in storage.”

Another new side of Mickey, or perhaps buried far away and now unearthed, was his sense of humor, which Minnie could find both annoying and hilarious. She gave him a wry smile, and if not for his leg she would have given him a push. “Very funny. They know exactly what your home looks like, I told them all about it, down to the last detail.”

“That's because she never shuts up about you,” came a feminine voice far from the back, which gave Mickey a spook – he hadn't thought they were there right this second!

Minnie turned around, hands on her hips, shouting back into the dimness. “I told you to be quiet until I called you! You're spoiling things!”

“Oh please, he knows who we are. As if you hang out with anyone else!”

Minnie pouted, since Daisy had a fair point, and noted Mickey's look of utter confusion. “She's usually nicer than this. Sometimes.”

“I heard that!”

“Well then, come over here and prove it to him!”

Daisy walked into the room, several chrysanthemums intricately woven into her white hair, keeping it in place. With her arms crossed, she looked around the room, somewhat impressed by all the weaponry and jewelry made by his hands, though the smell of such work nearly made her beak wrinkle. Then she looked at Mickey, and he looked right back, suddenly caught, a little creature with eyes wide in shock. Daisy remembered that first day on the beach when she and Minnie had first seen him, and he'd certainly cleaned up since then. Daisy still wasn't exactly clear on what about him had won Minnie over so obsessively, but if he made Minnie happy, she had no qualms with him.

“I am Persephone, demi-goddess extraordinaire.” She slapped a hand to her chest, tilted her head back, and encouraged her flowers to sprinkle slightly. Introductions were important, especially when you got to be flashy. “My chosen name is Daisy. It's good to meet you at last, Mickey.” She extended a hand out, which Mickey stared at in stupor before blinking hard and shaking her hand.

“Hiya.” He wasn't sure what else to say. He hadn't exactly prepared for this. “Nice ta meetcha too. I suppose.” But what he was sure about was who the other person hiding in the shadows was. “Guess that means that's Donald over there, huh? Minnie says he's a nice guy.”

“The nicest man you'll ever meet!” Daisy's voice intensified to the point of proud shouting, gesturing to an empty space where Donald was supposed to walk in – and still hadn't. “You think you know sailing? My husband can teach you things you never even dreamed of!” Still hadn't. “He's going to be your good friend, just like Minnie is, and just like I will be!” No movement. “He's going to...He's really...He's actually...HE'S GOING TO GET HIS BUTT KICKED IF HE DOESN'T COME OVER HERE AND STOP MAKING ME LOOK STUPID!”

“SHADDAP, I'M NOT READY YET!”

“YOU'VE HAD PLENTY OF TIME TO GET READY, NOW GET OVER HERE BEFORE I DRAG YOU!”

Mickey carefully examined Minnie's face to find signs of mortification, but apparently for Minnie this was a casual occurrence. She was waiting patiently for the feud to end, standing next to Mickey and holding his hand, which Mickey still didn't see as a sign of affection, nor did he when she preferred to hold onto his whole arm. If she wasn't worried, then he shouldn't be worried either. These new people were...excitable, that was the word. It wasn't a bad thing. He'd probably laugh at this later when he calmed down. He wasn't anxious. Not at all. He kept telling himself this over and over.

After a few more exchanges with heightened profanity, Donald shouted, “OKAY, OKAY, I'M COMING!” and there was a shuffle in the shadows. Inch by inch, foot after foot, Donald walked into the light of the blazing torches, but once he saw Mickey, his body stopped. He was suddenly back on Mount Olympus, in the crowd as Hera revealed her child, and there was baby Mickey, tiny and fragile and crying, and he should have _done something_ , anything, yell at Hera for being a terrible mother, scream at Zeus for discarding his flesh and blood, take the child into his arms and run away with - 

“You okay?” came from the fully grown adult Mickey, who blinked in confusion at the stranger who had begun reaching out towards him.

Donald stared, and then rubbed his eyes, greatly relieved they weren't wet. “Oh! Um, yeah, I'm fine, I'm completely fine, I'm...” He had centuries to prepare for this moment and couldn't form a structured sentence. Daisy was rubbing a hand on his back in quiet support, and Minnie's eyes bounced back and forth between the men. Donald tried again. “So, uh, yes. Like they said, I'm Donald. Daisy's husband. Donald's my chosen name. My birth name is...” A deep breath, fists clenched, trying to ready himself for whatever anger and well deserved outrage would follow. “I am Hades, brother of Zeus and Poseidon, and...your uncle.”

Silence struck the cave, save for the Axelias hard at work and the fire crackling all around. Donald's heart was beating so hard he was sure everyone could hear it all the way to Mount Olympus. It was taking Mickey a moment to register what had been revealed, and once every last bit had sunk in, his eyes grew as wide as his sockets would allow, and he gripped harder on his walking stick. He spoke – but all that came out was a soft, “Oh.” Then, rolling his tongue in his mouth, “So you are.”

Mickey supposed he ought to feel something, be it positive or negative, yet nothing came forward. So this man was his uncle. Zeus had sired hundreds of children, Mickey probably had cousins and nephews and nieces and so forth that could fill a nation. He hadn't cared about them either. Why should he? He never met them, and they had no impact on his life. Only Hera and Zeus had given him grief, so they were the only family members he had any right to be sour over. So why wasn't anyone saying anything? Was this that big a deal? If anything, Mickey found it more like a coincidence.

“Oh?” Daisy suddenly repeated, her eyes narrowing. “All that build-up, and all you can say is 'Oh'?” She looked at Donald in a mixture of frustration and entertainment. “You almost molted over this kid and you get 'Oh'. Feel better now?”

Donald thought he should have felt that way, but he'd been expecting hatred, not complicity. He opened and closed his hands, opened and closed his beak, sputtering and spitting. “Well – I – I'm sorry, Mickey! I really am! I should never have let Hera do that to you, I should have come after you!”

Mickey shrugged one shoulder. “Nobody else did. Didn't expect anyone to, either.”

“Yeah, but - but - I'm your uncle! I have no excuse! Aren't you even a little mad at me?”

He actually had to give this some thought. “Nah. Not really. I don't really know you.” A voice in the back of his said he didn't know Aphrodite either, so why should he be mad at her? He shoved it aside, this was not the time.

“Come on, aren't you kinda mad?” Donald was losing his patience. “You should be furious! You should be cursing my name! You should punch me in the face! I _demand_ you punch me in the face!”

“I ain't gunna punch you in the face!”

“ **I SAID PUNCH ME IN THE FACE, YOU BRAT!** ” Donald had not intended to show Mickey his “other” form until he was good and ready, but he should have learned there was never a proper time to show it. Daisy rolled her eyes, sighing, and Minnie flinched a bit, not entirely used to this just yet. As for Mickey, it was his first time seeing the smokey entity with blood red eyes and a voice that sounded like smashing bones and ripping flesh.

He yelped in pure fear, dropping his walking stick and clinging to Minnie for dear life – Minnie tried not to enjoy this and failed. “Oh, it's all right, Mickey,” Minnie said sweetly, stroking Mickey's head tenderly – with his awkward leg, he was mostly hanging off of her, fingers in her dress. “This is just a small side-effect from being the god of death. He's still the same Donald deep down. Don't you remember me telling you Donald sometimes poofed?”

“Th-th-that's much b-b-bigger than a p-p-p-poof!” Mickey stammered, wondering what in the world drew Minnie to these weird people.

At least Donald knew enough to be embarrassed, and after a hard cough, the smoke vanished, leaving its usual after effects. “Sorry,” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. “I kind of, sort of, have a slight temper. Most of the time I have it under control.”

“Don't lie to the boy, Donald,” muttered Daisy. “Mickey, you're about to pull Minnie's dress off.” Not that Minnie was complaining.

Donald shot his wife an indignant look, and Mickey hurriedly apologized to Minnie while grabbing his walking stick and getting back on solid ground. He then approached his uncle warily, with slow steady steps. “You can just...do that, anytime you want? Change your whole body completely?”

“Well, yes, pretty much.” Donald had never devoted much time thinking about it, since it was more of a hindrance than anything else. “I'm really sorry, kid, I didn't mean to scare you.”

“Does your inside become all smog too?” Mickey asked, skipping over the apology. Now that he was positive his life wasn't in danger, he was full of questions. “Like your heart and your blood and your brain? Can you still feel things? Like a nervous system?”

Donald was floored – was it his imagination or was Mickey actually impressed? No one ever wanted to learn about the god of the dead. “Uh, not really! I guess I've never thought about it too much. I usually only do it for a few seconds.”

“Could you do it longer? Like minutes? Or hours?”

“I suppose if I was angry long enough...I don't see why not! I am a god, maybe I could go all day!”

“And you can just turn it off by thinkin' about it? How does that feel? Can you feel yourself going back to normal?” Mickey enjoyed machinery, and one of the most complex pieces of machinery out there was the living body. His eyes shone, trying to picture a weapon – a sword, no, a shield! - that could have the same effect, that could turn into smoke or maybe just emit it, create an illusion or distraction around the battlefield – his mind ran off like a marathon Olympic champion. Donald was a fascinating subject to investigate. Minnie was clapping giddily in delight, and Daisy was shaking her head, pleased but also in disbelief that this, of all things, was bringing the men together.

“It's kinda like – like the feeling of a full meal! How you feel it in every part of you, all coming in!” With Mickey's growing passion, Donald's was growing as well, hoping to answer each question to Mickey's delight.

The two men would have continued this bizarre back and forth inquiry until Daisy very loudly cleared her throat. “Look, this is fun and all, but we've got a schedule to keep. We can't stay here all day. Minnie wanted to introduce Mickey to all of her friends, and that includes Goofy. So let's get going, or at this rate, he'll be an old man before we talk to him!”

“Oh, I nearly forgot!” Minnie blamed herself, now skipping over to Daisy. “Of course we have to all go see Goofy! There's a great, big, super special surprise I want everyone to see there!” Now at last she could reveal the gift she gave to Goofy – wouldn't they all be shocked! “You guys will love Goofy, he's very sweet! And he makes these amazing sculptures! Mickey, he can make beautiful things just like you, but in his own way! I bet you'll be such good friends!” The sheer idea of all these things happening was enough to make her hop and down, her voice bubbling with the sincerest joy. This was going to be one of the best days ever, she just knew it!

The two men were puzzled for different reasons. Donald thought back to the Sisters of Fate – hadn't their mystery thread said something about a sculptor? No, if Minnie was involved, surely they would have said so. There were probably hundreds of sculptors out in the world, he shouldn't think of bothersome things when spending time with people he cared about. As for Mickey, he remembered Minnie speaking of Goofy – but Goofy was a mortal. Gods and goddesses could teleport anywhere they pleased, but if Minnie wanted him to meet a mortal, that meant they'd have to go to him – which meant not only leaving Mickey's home, but physically going to another place with ground under his feet. That was a brand new experience, and he wasn't entirely sure if he was ready for it. Then again, how would he know if he was ever ready? 

“Where is Goofy?” Mickey asked, hoping to swallow down the last remaining doubts in his head. He trusted Minnie, Minnie would never do him harm, so if she believed meeting Goofy would be good and bring Mickey happiness, then that was exactly what would happen.

Minnie spread out her hands. Daisy took one, and held Donald's with her other. “We'll go to him,” Minnie announced with a nod, awaiting Mickey's hand. “He's in this nice town, you'll just love it. It's going to be so much fun!”

Mickey didn't take her hand, not right away. Leaving the safety and comfort of his island to be among strangers – mortals – people who would look at him and judge him just like – just like – but as his mind reached for memories to support his fear, he found that the only one who had given him grief were his parents. No one else had yet to hurt him. Not the mermaids, not the nereids, and as he timidly lifted his head towards Donald and Daisy, he didn't see resentment or disgust in their faces. They were kind and patient, looking at him and not his disfigurement. He'd never dared to leave his home because he was afraid of what lay out there, but if the world had people like his fish family and his new friends, perhaps, just perhaps, it wasn't too terrifying after all.

His eyes went back to Minnie, sweet Minnie who lived for his happiness and cried for his soul – she who he loved with every beat of his heart, his love continuing to grow – and knew that if he did take this step forward, then she too would be happy. He would make her happy. He wanted her to be happy. “Maybe for a little while,” he finally agreed, and slowly took Minnie's hand, squeezing it gently, her thumb rubbing against his own.

Now everyone was smiling, and Minnie gave Mickey's hand an extra swing before all of their powers drew together, and they vanished from the cave.

~*~

 

Goofy's town hadn't quieted down since he'd broken Bouncer Beagle's noise. With his single act of bravery, shopkeepers and tradesmen refused to allow the Beagles to go into their shops and near their wares without showing intended payment. It was much harder to steal from and boss around people who weren't afraid of you. In addition, there was gossip buzzing about Goofy entering the famous chariot races in the next town over. Many planned to see the event just for that – if Goofy could break their view of him before, he could surely do it again. With everyone excited and talkative, it was easy to miss four strangers casually strolling in.

Alongside Daisy and Minnie's pretty mortal forms, Donald had taken on the appearance of an older man, with wrinkles of wisdom under his brow and a proud stance to his walk. Mickey wasn't very creative when it came to people, only material objects. To be honest, he looked almost exactly the same as he did in his godly form, save for a less noticeable presence and maybe an inch or two added to his height. His twisted leg remained the same, unable to change, and as the group headed down the sandy pathway, his eyes flinched every time a new face saw him. For centuries he'd built up their reactions in their head – and for centuries he'd been wrong.

Those whose paths they crossed, if they saw Mickey, then saw his leg, maybe their eyes would widen, or just nod in sympathy, but then they went about their day as if nothing had gone on. Nobody was staring or pointing or whispering or pitying him. It just wasn't that unusual. He was unaware of that relaxed smile showing on his face, but Minnie was, and it brought her unfathomable joy.

As they approached Goofy's house, there was the faint sound of footsteps inside, as if someone was pacing back and forth anxiously. This was accompanied by a female voice humming, making up a song as she went along. Minnie skipped up to the entrance, and called out, “Goofy! Can you out come out? It's Minnie!”

A brief pause, and then the gangly sculptor poked his head out of his house. He'd been so swept up in worries about Agalma and the Beagles and the race that he'd plum forgotten about the nice dear who'd been so friendly to him, and the peach he was supposed to be carving for her. It didn't erase his troubles, but it did help put them on a shelf to be resumed later. “Why, it is Minnie!” He replied with a big toothy smile, stepping outside and catching the sight of the others. “And Daisy, and...some guys!” If they were friends of Minnie and Daisy, they had to be good people, and his smile grew bigger. “Aw gee, it sure is nice to see ya'll again.” He knelt down to open his arms, and Minnie jumped into them for a great big hug.

“It's so good to see you too, Goofy!” Minnie squeaked after kissing his cheek. “I've been wanting to bring all my friends together for so long, and now my friends can be friends with each other! Isn't that wonderful!”

“It's just about the best idea I ever done heard. And I could use some good ideas these days.” Goofy nodded once, and then held out his hand, more than happy to introduce himself to the newcomers. “Name's Goofy!”

Donald took the hand first, always grateful to be around someone so lively. “I'm Donald. Nice to meet you, buddy. I'm Daisy's husband.”

“Good to meet you, Donald.” When Goofy offered his hand to Mickey, his mind leapt to an absurd point. “Does that make you Minnie's boyfriend?”

“What?!” Mickey lost his balance on his walking stick and speedily regained his footing. “No, no! We're friends! Good friends, _best_ friends, but I ain't her boyfriend, _no sir_ , no how, I absolutely am not like that with her in any way at all.” Yeah, that'd convince everyone he wasn't in love with her, right? He thought he heard Daisy mutter “subtle”, and he was quick to try again, taking Goofy's hand. “My name's...Mickey. Minnie says you're a sculptor?”

Goofy shook the hand, merely assuming that Mickey was nervous meeting a new person, which wasn't entirely false. “I sure am! Got a bunch of my works inside.” He then glanced at his house, the inside already filled to the brim with his works – he wasn't sure if it could fit four more people in there.

“Mickey creates things too,” Minnie said proudly, gesturing with open palms toward Mickey as if she were showing him off to the world. “He makes all kinds of amazing things with his hands. He makes jewelry and armor and shields and maps, and he's really talented at it all! I was thinking he could take a look at what you've made?”

“Sure, sure!” Goofy slapped his knees as he stood up. “Always nice to meet someone who likes to make good-lookin' things! Makes the world a nicer place to live in, I say. If'fn you all hold your breath, I think we can get everyone inside!” He walked back inside his house, and the small group followed, though they had to squish and brush against one another to fit in.

“Wow!” Donald exclaimed as soon as he settled inside, marveling at a small portrayal of fishermen tossing a net into the ocean. “Look at all these little details! You can see this guy's stubble and everything!” He whistled afterward, drawing his fingers across the ripples of water, half-expecting to feel his fingertips get wet.

Daisy tugged on Donald's arm to drag him over. “You've got to see the ones he did of birds in the forest, you'd swear you can hear them sing!”

Mickey exhaled deeply, examining each and every single statue up close. It was as if he could see every hour of work put into the art, every motion of the tools, and he itched to create. When he came upon a pair of statues – a mother teaching her daughter a traditional dance – he knelt to examine the swaying fabric. “How do you do this?” He asked as he tried to pinch the edge of the dress. “It's so smooth!”

“Aw, everyone thinks sculptors just chip, chip, chip,” Goofy explained, crouching over Mickey to point out areas that had been the most difficult. “But it's much more than that. There's drawin' involved, and smoothin' it out, and a whole load of patience. See here, this part where the hem is kinda frilly? I had to make a whole new tiny chisel for it.”

“I see, I see!” Mickey nodded hard, picturing the newly crafted tool in his mind and craving his work station so he could make a replica, or perhaps a better one. “You can't go too hard or it'll crack, but if you go too soft, you get nothing done.”

“Exactly!” Goofy ruffled the top of Mickey's head, having never been able to speak to someone of equal mind about the struggles of conception and production. “You have to find the right balance with the materials you've got! Not all marble is the same, and marble ain't the same as other stone materials.”

“Oh, I know all about that,” Mickey spoke with a pleased grin, the men exchanging their info about the varieties of stone and rock, which gave life and color to what they thought up, and Minnie observed it all with a satisfied sigh.

It was all going very pleasantly – and then Agalma's voice came from the kitchen. “Who's out there, Goofy? Should I make lunch for them too? I don't know if we have enough.”

Daisy raised an eyebrow. “Don't tell me you got a girlfriend since I last saw you.”

“She's not my girlfriend, she's...” Goofy trailed off, unable to answer adequately. She wasn't Millicent, she wasn't his girlfriend, and sometimes Goofy wasn't even sure if they were friends. He swallowed hard. “She's...She's Agalma.” He wondered if he could tell them what she really was and then decided otherwise – he didn't want his friends to think he was nutcase. “Come out and say hi, Agalma. These are my pals.”

Minnie lightly nudged Daisy, whispering eagerly. “Get ready for the big surprise!”

Agalma stepped into the room, her robe dirty with kitchen work, bits of chopped apples on her hands. “Oh, hello there.”

“Hello,” said Mickey, unaware of anything odd and merely nodding once in greeting.

“Hello,” said Donald, thinking perhaps he'd seen her somewhere before, but couldn't place where and decided it didn't matter.

“HelLOOOOOOOH _MY GOODNESS_ -” After Daisy's screamed outburst she slapped her hands on her own beak, knowing if she opened it again too soon she'd keep screaming. She shakily turned her head towards Minnie, who was smiling proudly, jabbing a thumb to her heart. Daisy gawked, looking her up and down, and then snatched Minnie's wrist. “YOU, ME, NEED TO TALK, RIGHT NOW.” She couldn't control the volume of her voice any longer, and then she flailed her free hand towards the very befuddled friends. “We need to talk in private right this second! About – about – girl things!”

Agalma raised a hand. “Oh, I'm a girl, can I come?”

“NO! YOU STAY! Talk about – sculpting things! Boy things!” She then ran out of the house as fast as he legs would take her, not caring if she knocked any priceless artwork either. Minnie was so stunned she allowed herself to be dragged without any argument.

Agalma looked at Goofy. “Are all your friends this strange, or am I still learning things?”

Daisy didn't stop running until they were a good distance from the house, near the old well that, thankfully, no one was around. When she let go of Minnie, she frantically ran here and there, the flowers on her head wilting and falling out, replacing themselves with sticky monkey flowers that stretched and agonized with her. “Oh no, oh no, _oh noooo_ , this is, I don't know, I can't believe – is this what having a heart attack feels like?!”

Minnie crossed her arms, annoyed that her big fun surprise was being ruined. “Daisy, what are you going on about? You were very rude to...” She paused, wondering why the girl's name was different. “That's odd, why did he call her Agalma? It's supposed to be Millicent.”

Daisy whipped around and slapped her hands on Minnie's shoulder, gripping her hard enough that she almost pressed Minnie down into the ground. “What. Did. You. _Dooo?_ ”

“I was going to tell you and Donald and Mickey altogether,” Minnie lectured, but Daisy's furious and horrified eyes told Minnie this was no time to reprimand her. “W-well! You said I could give Goofy a gift after he left me such nice offerings. I didn't know what to give him, but then it hit me – I could give him Millicent! So one night when he was asleep, I came into his house, and I willed the statue of Millicent to life!” It hadn't even taken long, just a few minutes of intense concentration and willpower. Minnie expected applause and congratulations for her achievement.

Instead, Daisy looked to be on the verge of throwing up. “You. You. You _willed_ her to life.” Minnie had said this as if all she'd done was deliver a fruit basket! “I need water. Oh no. Oh nooo.” She reeled away from Minnie and grabbed the bucket and rope attached to the well. “The one decent friend I make, someone I really like, and she can...ooooh boy...”

Minnie pouted, her cute cheeks puffed out, hands on her hips. “What's the big deal? Don't you and Donald do this kind of stuff when you get offerings?”

Daisy didn't answer until she had swallowed every last drop from the bucket, and after she wiped her lips, she looked hard and intensely at her dear friend. “Two things. First off? You're not supposed to be able to create life. _No one_ has that power, not even Zeus, not since Zeus' father!”

Only then did it dawn on Minnie that perhaps she may be in some trouble. “...Huh?”

Daisy tried to keep her breathing even, which wasn't easy. “Zeus' father, Cronus, was the one who made mankind. They were supposed to be his servants, which is why Zeus, Poseidon, and Donald fought him and...” Going on another tangent wasn't going to help anything, and she dismissed it hard with a slap of her hand to the air. “The point is, Zeus is the most powerful god alive right now, and he doesn't have the ability to make humans! None of us do, it's unheard of! We – we can turn humans into things, like that one time Athena got really jealous of this one weaver and made her a spider-” Why was it so easy to go on different topics when she was panicking? “But we can't MAKE humans with a snap of our fingers! And you shouldn't be able to do that either, and I don't know why you can!”

The heavy weight of all this information pressed on Minnie's body, making her shrink more and more. At the time she hadn't thought what she did was anything so blasphemous. It was just an effort to make Goofy happy. Her stomach tied up into knots, and she was afraid to hear anything else, but she knew there was more. “And...so...what's 'second'?” Her voice was a scared mumble, her arms drawn together.

“Second,” Daisy said again, wiping her forehead with the back of her arm. “Aside from the fact that what you did breaks every law of the gods we know...You shouldn't make people physically and you shouldn't make people _morally_.” She rubbed her temples, trying to take this step by step. She knew Minnie meant no harm, that the sweet girl was doing her best and trying to help, but Minnie hadn't taken the time to think about the consequences of her actions – like her lies to Mickey and the “marriage to Hephaestus.” The latter of which Minnie had yet to tell her friends, and was now deeply petrified to do.

“Does Millicent...Agalma...whoever that is have any memories of the friends she made when the first one was alive?”

Minnie's mind blanked. “I-I don't know. Won't they be happy to see her?”

“They're going to be terrified, Minnie, and I bet Goofy was terrified too!” Daisy held onto the well, fighting off her temper. “People don't come back from the dead! And if she doesn't have Millicent's memories, then she's not Millicent! She's just some stranger in Millicent's body! You created life, and then abandoned it, assuming it would just work out without you! That's almost as bad as Hera-”

“I am not like Hera!” Minnie cried out, on the verge of tears, her legs beginning to lose their strength. “She's a terrible woman, and she didn't care about Mickey or anyone else! I just wanted Goofy to stop being sad!”

“But sometimes people _need_ to be sad, Minnie!” Daisy's back was hitched, unable to look at her friend, knowing she'd break down and stop if she did. This lesson needed to be said, and softness wouldn't be of any aid. “People need to grieve, so their hearts can settle, and they can move on with their lives. And what if people found out what you could do? You'd have thousands of people demanding you bring statues of their loved ones to life, you'd throw the whole order of the living and dead out of balance! You just can't play with people's lives like toys! You can't force people to be in love or be happy or whatever you want! You have to _think_ , Minnie!”

Putting all that out exhausted Daisy thoroughly, and she took lumbering breaths afterward. She could hear Minnie quietly crying, and pushed herself away from the well. Minnie had fallen to her knees, wiping her face – even crying as hard as this, she was beautiful in every way, without any signs of snot or red eyes. When Minnie tried to speak, her voice was brittle and childish. “I...I didn't...I didn't _mean_ to...I just...just wanted to fix it...”

Daisy knelt at Minnie's side and took her into her arms, stroking her head gently. “I know you didn't mean to.” With all the anger poured out, she could be kind and gentle to her friend again. “But you can't fix everything, and that includes people. When they get hurt, sometimes you just have to let them be hurt. They have to find their own way, or else they'll rely on you forever...And that's not friendship or love. People need to be able to stand on their own two feet.”

Minnie hiccuped, and Daisy couldn't tell if Minnie was nodding or trying to clean her face. Daisy touched Minnie's chin, tilting her face up. “Minnie, promise me you'll never do this again, and that you'll never tell anyone you can do it.”

“I-I promise,” Minnie whined with another crack in her voice. “Daisy, I'm so sorry... I won't do it again, not ever again.” A fresh wave of tears came, and she buried herself into Daisy's chest.

“I trust you,” Daisy assured her, letting Minnie cry as loud and long as she needed to. Daisy was afraid of Minnie's power and potential and whatever secrets still lay lurking underneath those long lashes and sweet giggles, but not of Minnie herself. Minnie was a good girl, but a terribly misguided one. So be it for Daisy to guide her. She couldn't trust anyone else to do a better job.

At least the worst of it was over now – as far as Daisy knew.

~*~

Back with the men and living statue, they tried to pretend the extremely odd event hadn't happened and made small talk. Goofy explained his creation process while Agalma asked about Mickey and Donald's jobs. Mickey replied that made mostly made jewelry, and Donald lied about being a sailor who went on grand adventures. As the wait for the girls became longer, Donald glanced at the entrance to the house, then back to Mickey, who had been studying one of Goofy's chisels in his hand. “Say, Mickey,” The mouse lifted his head. “What's the deal with you and Minnie, anyway?”

Mickey blinked quickly, not understanding the question. “Whaddya mean? She's my best friend.”

“I know that, but, ah, how can I put this delicately?” What was the nice way of saying “My wife is convinced that your best friend is absolutely obsessed with you?” He strummed his fingers on his beak. “Kinda seems that you're a big deal to Minnie. A _really_ big deal.”

“She's just nice, is all,” Mickey replied, and honestly believed it. “I'm sure she does this kind of stuff with Daisy too.”

“What kind of stuff?” Agalma asked, serving lunch in the form of chopped fruit between slices of bread. It tasted too wet but the men in the room were too polite to turn it down, and she'd made an obvious effort. 

“You know,” Mickey waved a hand. “Taking her out places, having those big long talks, givin' all those nice compliments...”

“Sounds like a good friendship to me,” Goofy commented, leaning on a wall and taking a big bite out of his sandwich. He grimaced, but when Agalma's face saddened, he ate more and gave her an uneasy thumbs up.

Donald tried it from another angle. “Okay, but how about the way she _looks_ at you? That's not friendship. Certainly not any friendship I've had.” Not that he had too many to speak of, but if Fethry ever looked at him that way, there would be issues.

“How does she look at him?” Agalma asked, growing more invested in the conversation than in her failed lunch.

“Like he's the only guy that exists in the whole world.”

“She does _not_ ,” Mickey shot back, growing annoyed and embarrassed, his cheeks pinking.

“Like he's perfection incarnate.”

“She does NOT.”

“Like she wants to be with him every minute of every hour of every day of-”

Mickey was about to shoot in that of course Minnie didn't look at him in any such way and Donald was making things up and if he didn't stop he was going to tattle on him to Daisy – but it was Goofy who went first. “Ain't there a much more important question you gotta ask first before all this?”

Donald paused, and tilted his head around, as if moving his brain would find the missing question. “Uh. What is it?”

Goofy swallowed the rest of his disastrous meal down his gullet, and then put his hands on his knees, leaning over enough to address Mickey. “Do you like Minnie?”

It would have been easy just to say yes, as a friend, and then move onto a less mortifying tangent. But Mickey was no fool – at least when it came to his own feelings now – and he knew exactly what Goofy was proposing. It seemed rather personal to tell a complete stranger this, but maybe this new group of people would help him get over these feelings. “If you gotta know...” he mumbled, shifting his shoulders around. “Yes. Yes I do. She's a swell girl. And she deserves a lot better than a hermit with a bad leg. So don't go makin' up whatever you want about what she says about me or looks at me, cause I know she doesn't like me that way, and it's fine, I tell you, just fine!”

Donald could tell he'd walked upon dangerous territory and was going to let the subject drop, but ever curious Agalma was talking now. “People can deserve people? Does that mean people can be unworthy of other people?”

Mickey certainly hadn't expected to be questioned about that. “Huh?”

“Does that mean you don't deserve to be Minnie's friend? That you're unworthy to be her friend? Wouldn't Minnie already know that?”

“I – it – she -” Mickey faltered, words tossed around on his mouth without any place to go. “That's not what I...”

“If she doesn't know that, does that make her dumb?” Agalma had meant this honestly – in town, she'd heard many people call Goofy dumb for the sheer crime of not knowing something. She never liked hearing him repeat these tales when she was a statue, and she didn't like hearing it now.

“She is NOT dumb!” Mickey snapped, his anger up, his face up. Minnie's honor would not be tarnished in his presence. “She knows plenty! She's a smart girl! Real smart! She can do whatever she wants!”

“Then can't she decide who she likes and who she doesn't like? Who she's worthy of and who she isn't worthy of? Isn't that her choice, not yours?”

Mickey opened his mouth and nothing came out. How was he supposed to argue against that? His self-loathing and his love for Minnie were now in combat, dueling over the correct opinion. He couldn't possibly be worthy of her affections – but that was ultimately her choice to make, and if he didn't tell her his feelings, then he was robbing her of that choice. But he was ugly! - But she was his friend! - But she should be happy! - But who was he to decide what made her happy?

Donald could have sworn smoke was about to pour out of Mickey's ears. “I think you broke him,” he said with a toothy grin.

“Oh, dear, I didn't mean to do that!” Agalma reached out her hands, but didn't know what to do. “How do I fix him?”

Goofy clicked his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “Not a clue, Agalma. Millicent never stuck her head in anyone's business.” In this situation, Millicent would have stayed quiet and never offered her opinion. But perhaps – _perhaps_ – that was an area where she might have been wrong. It was certainly something to think about. He looked at Agalma and thought about telling her this. Yet he didn't.

Donald thought he might have heard that name before, but once again dismissed it, slapping a hand on Mickey's shoulder. “Listen, today Minnie wants us all to be buddy-buddy and make friends and get along. And we will! I'm having a grand time. But after today, you can rely on your uncle, and I'll help you win Minnie's heart!” Granted, he was pretty sure Mickey had won it, but a little extra assurance never hurt anyone. Mickey didn't object as he sincerely doubted he had any choice in this exchange. “If I can win over someone as shrewd and shrill as Daisy, I can help you with anyone! First off, a love confession ain't as hard as everyone thinks it is.”

“It isn't?” Mickey, Goofy, and Agalma asked at the same time, equally surprised.

“Of course not.” Donald puffed out his chest, proud of the attention he had over his audience. “You said it yourself, Minnie's a smart gal. You just gotta flatter her! Say every single nice thing you can think about her. If that doesn't clue her in, she'd have to be as oblivious as...” Well, as Mickey himself, and Donald bit back laughter. “Come on, give it a try.”

Again, Mickey didn't believe he had any say in this, and now Goofy and Agalma seemed to be as eager as Donald to hear this nonsense. He sighed deeply, and scratched his cheek with one finger. “W-well...she's...she's beautiful, I mean, you all can see that, you looked at her, right? But it's more than that. Like, with her eyes, you can tell when she's really fascinated by somethin'.” Oddly, the more he said it, the more natural it felt, and he began to unclench. “And she's a good listener. And she can tell when you're upset, and she'll just drop everythin' to make you feel better. She's real nice that way. And she likes learnin' about stuff, she's really... really...what's that word, in...inqui...”

“Inquisitive?” Minnie's voice offered.

“Yeah, inquisitive, thanks Minnie, she's- ” Oh, if gods really _could_ have heart attacks, Mickey would have died in that house. Whatever he'd been about to say smashed together in his mouth, making a garbled yelp as he whipped around, tripped on his walking stick, and only Agalma sticking out her hands and catching him preventing him from falling over. There in the doorway stood a very entertained Daisy and an exhausted Minnie, whose cheeks were now wet from crying. Mickey clutched his chest, demanding his heart slow down. “Huuuuu- _Huuuuhgh_ -How long have you been there?!”

“Not long,” Daisy answered with a lie. “Why, what were you talking about?”

Agalma opened her mouth to honestly answer and Goofy was quick to push up her jaw and prevent her from revealing anything. “Nuh-NOTHING,” Mickey spat, but only then did he notice the state of Minnie's cheeks. It washed away his fear, and he was up on his feet, trying to hobble his way over. “Hey, your face is all wet! You okay there, Minnie? What happened?” he touched her cheek, concern clear in his voice.

“Allergies,” Daisy lied again, and this time Minnie did as well by nodding and repeating, “Allergies.”

Donald was the only one who knew that was impossible, but he'd have to inquire later. Minnie squeezed Mickey's hand to show gratitude for his worry, but her eyes mostly stayed on Goofy and Agalma, and her heart ached, wondering how much pain she'd inadvertently caused by trying to help. They seemed all right, but how could she really know? Worse still, what if her attempts to help Mickey would cause pain too? She couldn't bear the thought, and she hugged Mickey's arm, hoping she hadn't done so already. Mickey lightly patted her head, and Goofy wondered how Mickey could have the ridiculous audacity to suggest the two weren't in love with each other. He also wondered why Daisy had to drag Minnie away from his house like they had caught on fire, which Mickey and and Agalma were also remembering, but they were unsure how to ask about it without accusing Daisy of being a lunatic.

Daisy squeezed her way back into the room. “I smell fruit,” she chirped, wanting to put the past couple of minutes behind her. “Did you guys eat without us? That's the very definition of rude.”

“I can make more sandwiches,” Agalma offered, “But you don't have to eat them if you don't like them.” She cast Goofy an accusatory look, and he smiled sheepishly.

When her head was turned, Daisy smacked Donald upside the head. “That was for the shrewd and shrill crack, wise guy.”

“Ow! I meant it in a nice way!”

The group of immortals stayed for an hour or two more, eating messily made sandwiches and talking of carving and races, with Goofy telling of his chariot troubles to his new companions. Minnie vowed they would attend to cheer him on – it helped that she wanted to attend one, and find out what it was. But she also promised herself she wouldn't help Goofy in this race, at least not all by herself. If she was to ever interfere in mortal life again, she wouldn't do it right away. As she leaned on Mickey, she thought over all she'd done for him, and couldn't see how any of it hurt him – except, of course, the lying. She'd have to do something about that before he told her he was in love with her.

Because, you see, Minnie had known all along – and not because as she tried to enter the house Daisy yanked her backwards so they could hear Mickey defend Minnie's intelligence. She was the goddess of love, and apparently it hadn't just been a quick title that popped up at the top of Zeus' head. She'd felt Mickey's love for her take root the first moment he saw her, and felt it blossom with each and every meeting. Minnie knew that Mickey loved her truly, deeply, and adoringly, and that he may never stop loving her.

It was just a matter of waiting for him to gain the courage to say it to her face – and for that, she was patient. As for Mickey, the day he would tell her became one step closer.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my editors Drucilla and BlueShifted! They take time from their already busy schedules to edit my silly hobby, so thank them. THANK THEM. GIVE THEM ALL YOUR THANKS.
> 
> Behold, Gyro! Growing up, I was surprised to learn that he existed in the comics before the Ducktales toon. But in either one he's the same lovable genius, and I hope you'll like him here too.
> 
> Not much else to say here, just more building blocks to the plot, with a few DUN DUN DUUUUUNs.

Gyro De Gearloose's arrival into Goofy's village was actually two days later than promised. It made Goofy's worry and anxiety worse, and when he tried to chisel in order to distract himself, Minnie's peach somehow turned into a bunch of bananas. But when Gyro finally arrived, not only did Goofy know about it instantly, so did everyone else in the village.

The noise from Gyro's cart was coming from the tallest hill, and as he got closer and closer to the normally sleepy town, he made more and more noise. It wasn't the creaky wheels that did it, nor the hooves of the brighthly colored horse, nor Gyro's pleased humming. All the clanking and crashing was coming from the cart itself, which was stocked and stacked with bizarre machinery and gadgetry. Gears, tools, pipes, books, vials of foul smelling liquid, it all clattered together like the world's worst symphony. Gyro smiled at those he passed, offering a friendly wave before looking back at the letter that lay on his lap. His cousin had given exact, detailed directions to Goofy's home, but it never hurt to reread things in duplicate, triplicate, and so on.

Goofy and Agalma came outside to see what the fuss was all about, and Goofy's stomach twisted as he guessed that this odd visitor was for him. He hated to disappoint such a cheerful young man, but there was no way Goofy could compete in a chariot race, much less win one. There were days he tripped over his own sandals! As he lamented his woes, Agalma began to jump up and down and wave her arms so she could grab Gyro's attention. “Hellooo!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “Hellooo, over here!” It was a miracle she could be heard over all of Gyro's junk, but the horse and rider headed in her direction.

“Whoa, Little Helper!” Gyro commanded as he gently pulled the reins, urging his horse to come to a stop. “Very good! Your descent came in much quicker this time, you've knocked a whole 1.3 seconds off your usual record.” The horse snorted in pride, and after Gyro stroked its yellow mane, he hopped off his seat, rolling up the letter in his hands. “I hope I'm not wrong, but I take it you are Pygmalion?”

Goofy nodded once before he extended a hand. “You can just call me Goofy, most folks do.”

“Well then, Goofy, you can call me Gyro, because that is my name!” Gyro was about as tall as Goofy, perhaps an inch or two shorter, which was hard to tell since he had a short crop of fuzzy orange hair sticking straight up. He was thin as a stick, with small glasses sitting atop his beak that seemed to slide down with every other word he spoke. His sleek robes were perhaps once magenta, but were now bleached so much they looked bright pink, his sleeves rolled up to his shoulders but slipping back down as he shook Goofy's hand. “I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help with the race! I know together, we can take first prize!”

At that, Goofy began to pull his hand away, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Uh, yeah. About that...Gee, I ain't sure how to put this-”

“Goofy doesn't think he can do it,” Agalma finished, and when Goofy turned to her, she shrugged. “What? You said you weren't sure how to put it.”

“Really?” Gyro asked, cupping his beak. “My cousin kept going on and on about how you were up and raring to go...but then, he does tend to exaggerate.” He didn't sound offended or even disappointed – merely curious. “Have you ever been in a chariot race before?”

“No, sir. Ain't even seen one before.”

“Me neither,” said Agalma as she headed for the cart, wanting to find out what he'd brought and why.

“So it's first time jitters!” Gyro slammed a fist onto his palm, as if the matter wasn't that big at all. “That's perfectly reasonable! Everyone's nervous when they're trying something the first time. I've got just the thing for it! You see, I prepared for such circumstances, and many more. Never go anywhere unprepared, I always say.” His horse brayed, as if to say Gyro had never said any such thing. Gyro ignored the criticism and climbed onto his cart, beginning to push and dig through his pile. “Now then, where did I put it?”

“What is all this?”Agalma asked, picking up a large wheel from the cart – it was wooden on the outside, and metal inside.

“My experiments!” Gyro answered proudly, chucking a few screws over his shoulder. “I'm an inventor, as was my father, as was his father, as was his mother, all's equal in the inventing game...my whole family has been creating things to better humanity! And I bet my descendants a hundred years from now will be doing the same thing, with people lining up to try their inventions! But while thinking up ways to help people is free, actually doing that costs money, which is why I need your help to win the – A-ha! Found it!” Gyro yanked up what appeared to be a massive pair of glasses wrapped in paper and wiring. “I call it Sees All, Feels All! When you put these on, all your worries will melt away!”

As fascinating and confusing as this all was, Goofy still felt they skipped over something major. “Uh, Mister Gyro?”

“Just Gyro, please!” He rolled the paper back and slid off the cart, giving it a quick look over to make sure it was ready.

“Well, uh, Gyro, I do thank ya kindly for all this here effort, but I don't think I'm the kind of guy who can win races! I'm real clumsy, I ain't got a muscle to my name, and I'm not that bright. Just because I punched a guy in the nose don't make me a better fella than anyone else.” His eyes landed on Agalma, thinking that Millicent would somewhat agree, kindly ask Gyro to leave, and assure Goofy that he wouldn't have go through any trouble.

“Yes it does,” Agalma said, again shattering Goofy's conceptions and memories. She was moving the wheel around in her hand, imagining what it would look like if it was attached to anything. “Nobody else punched Bouncer before. No one even tried to stop them.”

“See, now that is what I call conviction!” Gyro laughed. “Listen, maybe you won't race after all, but you've got to at least give it a try! And speaking of tries, you can help me see if my Sees All, Feels All works!”

“You mean you ain't ever-” 'used it?', Goofy was going to ask, but Gyro had slammed the glasses onto his head and flipped a switch. The paper all around the glasses began to move rapidly, picking up speed with every second.

“What does it do?” Agalma asked.

“An excellent question...” Gyro paused. “Are you the young lady that my cousin says Goofy puts his hands all over?”

“Not anymore,” she replied. “I'm Agalma.”

“All right, Agalma! It was still an excellent question! You see, the paper here is lined with drawings and pictures meant to relax the mind, like a setting sun and a babbling brook! And I've found a way to make those images move by drawing them over and over, with small differences each time, creating an illusion when you move the paper! It's as if you actually see the sun setting before your very eyes.”

Agalma glanced at Goofy, then back to the inventor. “Is it supposed to make you nauseous?”

Gyro blinked rapidly. “What? Of course not.”

“Then I don't think it's working like you wanted it to.” Agalma pointed at Goofy, who was dizzily bent over, hands on his belly, moaning quietly. “Maybe you accidentally made a Sees All In Your Stomach.”

“Oh!” Gyro quickly snatched the device off of Goofy's head, wincing as he looked at Goofy's swimming eyes. “I'm terribly sorry! I guess that one's a bust...but at least you're not worried anymore, right? Hard to be worried when you're ill.” He tried to crack a smile, but all Goofy could get out was a gurgled “Ugh.”

Agalma tossed the wheel back on the heap and took Goofy by the elbow. “Why don't you go lay down a while?” Goofy nodded numbly, following her back into the house, but Gyro, after throwing his device back into the wagon, decided to join them.

“I truly am sorry, I – My goodness!” Gyro interrupted himself as he saw the multitude of near perfect statues. He took off his spectacles, rubbed them, put them back on, and they were still amazing. “I've never seen anything like these! This is absolutely marvelous!”

“You've been getting a lot of people complimenting them lately,” Agalma pointed out to Goofy, continuing to lead him to the bedroom. Goofy avoided eye contact.

“I can see why! The details, the expressions – what on earth do you need me for?” Gyro asked as he stepped into the bedroom, scratching his head. “You could make a fortune with any of them! I'm even tempted to take one or two myself, might spruce up the old home, and I'd pay you whatever you asked.”

Once Goofy laid down on his pitiful excuse for a bed, he finally began to talk, one arm over his eyes. “Aw, nobody wants somethin' made by a clumsy, dumb fella like me. Once folks forget all about me clobberin' Bouncer, it'll all go back to normal.”

Gyro frowned, crossing his arms. “And...people calling you clumsy and dumb is normal? No, forget I asked such a thing. Goofy, are you dumb?”

Goofy lifted his arm, wondering if Gyro had heard him at all. “I just said, everyone calls me-”

“I didn't ask if everyone called you dumb. I asked if you were dumb. There's a world of difference.”

The sculptor didn't answer, trying to see if this was a trick question. Agalma stood in the middle of the room – the same place where she was as a statue – and raised a hand. “Being dumb means you don't know anything, right?”

“That is what most people assume the definition is, but it is in fact an oxymoron!”

Goofy narrowed his eyes. “How's me bein' a moron different from me bein' dumb?”

“No, no, Goofy, _oxy_ moron! It's not an insult.” He cleared his throat, as if he was a professor dictating to a class. “An oxymoron is a rhetorical device that uses an ostensible self-contradiction to illustrate a rhetorical point or to reveal a paradox.” Blank looks from both canines. “Er...let me put it this way. A civil war is hardly ever civil! Acting natural means you're not natural! And a person who doesn't know anything doesn't exist.”

Agalma took this into consideration, shifting from one foot to the other. “But I'm constantly learning things that everyone else already knows. Doesn't that make me dumb?”

“Not at all!” Gyro declared, pointing a finger up. “We all learn things from someone else, and everyone learns at their own rate. But even babies know things – they know to trust their mothers, what tastes good and what doesn't, and how to tell people they're in distress...by crying! So being called dumb is a ridiculous insult, for there is not a single, solitary person or creature on this planet that knows nothing! You, Goofy, know many things, don't you?”

Goofy stared up at the ceiling, having never thought of it that way before. “Gee...I guess I do. I know how to count, and how to eat, and how to make statues...”

“And I bet there's a dozen other things you know, you just don't know it!” Gyro paused, realizing that also sounded like an oxymoron. “The point is, you shouldn't sell yourself so short. You're a great man, and if the people of this village can't see that, then it's high time you found people who can.”

Goofy slowly managed to sit up, hands on his lap, looking straight at Gyro. “You've just met me, and you already think I'm great?”

“I'm rarely wrong!” After the dogs gave him an indignant look, he speedily corrected himself. “About people. Let's give each other a chance, Goofy! I'm going to stay with my cousin, and come over every day to help you practice for the race! I much prefer making chariots over riding them. I'm going to invent the best chariot the world's ever seen!”

“ _Going_ to?” Agalma asked, an eyebrow raised. “You mean you haven't made it already? Even though you came here to get a racer?”

Gyro's confidence wilted like a dying flower in the intense sun. “Not...exactly...Ah. Well. I'm having a bit of a mental roadblock. Nothing I come up with is good enough, I can't even get past the blue print stage!”

“Have you tried red print?” Agalma asked.

Gyro went on. “It's like my creative well has dried up, and that's part of the reason why I'm here.” He sighed sadly, rubbing his arms. “I was hoping that by coming here and working with you, I could get those mental juices flowing again. Nothing else has worked – you're my last hope, Goofy. If I can't think of a new invention, it's the end for me! How can I call myself an inventor if I'm not helping those around me? It makes me wish there was...some kind of inventing god I could pray to!”

Goofy inhaled and exhaled deeply as he listened to Gyro's lamenting. As much as he wanted to tell the bird “no” and move on with his life, the good heart in him couldn't ignore Gyro's pleas. He still didn't believe his efforts would amount to anything – but he couldn't kick Gyro out and tell him to hit the road. “I ain't makin' no promises,” he said after lifting his head. “But... if'fn you really wanna give this a try, then I'll do whatever I can to help you out.”

“Perfect!” Gyro seized Goofy's hand and began shaking it vigorously all over again, which didn't exactly help with Goofy's stomach. “You won't be disappointed, friend!”

Goofy would have genuinely asked if Gyro really meant they were friends – except now he was so sick that he flopped back on his back, nearly passed out.

Before seeing himself out, Gyro pondered out loud, “Maybe I should make an anti-nausea device?”

“Please don't,” said Agalma.

~*~

Goofy wasn't the only one feeling sick that day. Ma Beagle and her sons had once lived in a large farmhouse after bullying and threatening the original owners, but since Goofy's act of defiance, they got soundly booted out. They made do by staying in Aphrodite's temple, but they knew they couldn't stay there forever. Ma didn't believe in the power of the gods, but even the most cynical part of her heart got the creeps by staying in such a sacred place. It was making her sick, along with everything else that had happened recently.

“Look at us,” she huffed, gesturing to the wide space around them. “Look at what we've become!” Burger was looking at the altar with burnt offerings, highly tempted to lick the ashes. Bouncer was in the middle of a nap but was woken up by the sound of his mother ranting. “We used to own this town! People would run at the mere sight of our shadows! And now we can't even get a bunch of old farm hands to cower! It's all because of that big goof!”

Bouncer rubbed his bandaged nose, which still hurt like the dickens. “I would've ducked if I knew it was coming.”

Ma began to pace, hands clutched together behind her back, her brows furrowed. “What if this spreads out to all of Greece? No Beagle will ever be able to steal again! What are we going to do?”

Burger rubbed some ashes between his fingers and gave them a whiff. “Get jobs, work hard, and becoming honest, functioning members of society?”

“This is no time for jokes!” Ma snapped, before resuming her frantic walk. “We need to find a way to demean what Goofy did to us. We need to get revenge! And once the town sees that their big hero isn't so big, they'll bend over backwards to make sure they never offend us again. But it's going to take more than a punch to the nose.”

Bouncer yawned, still a little drowsy from his nap. “Uh...ain't he some kinda sculptor, Ma? Maybe we can break all of his statues. I really like breaking things!”

“Yeah, why don't we do that?” Burger chimed in, after discovering that ash tastes horrible no matter what it used to be. “We can do it when he's off in that chariot race, so by the time he comes back, we'll be done and-”

“Chariot race?” Ma interrupted, stopping where she was and glancing behind her to watch her grown-up children. “What's this about a race?”

Bouncer scratched his head as he tried to remember the details. “Well, uh, word is, he and this big bird guy are gunna enter a big fancy race in the next town over...Think it's named Ippos?”

“Ippos?!” Ma exclaimed, running over to Bouncer and grabbing him by the tunic, shaking him over and over. “Are you sure it's Ippos? Boys, we've hit the motherload!”

“Aw, Ma, don't say that about yourself, you're not that big!” Bouncer replied.

After smacking her elder son on the head, Ma let him go. Burger just blinked slowly, confused. “Gee, Ma, what's the big deal? It's just some race in some town.”

“That's where you're wrong, Burger!” Ma proudly put her hands on her hips. “It's _the_ race in _the_ town! Ippos is famous for horse races, and the winner rakes in more money than you'll ever see in a lifetime! Every business there exists for the chariot races! And we've got a cousin there, Bombshell Beagle! He's the filthiest, dirtiest, most low-brow cheater that ever crawled the earth!” She sniffed, wiping away a single tear. “The pride and joy of the family.”

“What's that got to do with us, Ma?” Bouncer asked, readying himself in case he was due for another smack.

“If Goofy's entering that race, then so will we!” Ma clapped her hands together, rubbing them greedily. “We won't just make him lose...we'll make him a laughingstock! With my brains, Bombshell's cheats, Bouncer's brawn, and Burger's...” She needed a minute. “...Ability to be a meat shield-”

“Always glad to help, Ma!”

“-We'll not only grab first place, but we'll make Goofy wish he'd never been born! I want you boys to pack your things and head straight to Ippos.”

“We don't have a pack,” Bouncer said, getting to his feet. “Or things.”

“What about you, Ma?” Burger asked, already growing nervous about this plan. “Ain't you comin' with us?”

“In due time boys.” Ma approached them both and patted them both on the head, though Bouncer had to stoop over to make this possible. “I need to stay here for a while and keep an eye on the goof! Cheating isn't all about breaking their wheels or poisoning their horses. It's also about brains! Seems like when I gave birth to you, I kept yours.” She tapped a finger on her head, and the boys weren't insulted since they didn't understand it was an insult. “I'm going to psych Goofy out! Play some head games! Get him so rattled up that he'll have nightmares about this race! And maybe give that pretty girlfriend of his some trouble too...” Her face soured and she pulled away as she remembered what Bouncer had told her. “She might be the real cause of all this.”

“How you figure, Ma?” Burger asked, his stomach beginning to growl.

“Think about it, boys! Before she came along, that dog mouthed off to us, but he couldn't do any real damage.” Ma cracked her knuckles, recalling the day Goofy had struggled to stop their thievery in this very same temple, but had only succeeded in tripping all over himself. “Then she comes out of nowhere, and suddenly he's got the courage to sock you in the nose! If I can get rid of her somehow, it'll make Goofy a pathetic weakling again! You just leave her to me.” She didn't have an exact plan yet, but it wouldn't take long. Coming up with nefarious schemes was one of her favorite pastimes. All she needed was a spark of inspiration.

“I sure hope this works out like you say it will,” Bouncer said, starting to head for the exit with his little brother in tow. “At this rate, we'd be better off as slaves.”

“Think they serve horse meat in Ippos?” Burger questioned as he trailed along.

Ma froze in her tracks, and then ran after her children, grabbing them by the arms and spinning them around. “Don't take another step! What did you just say?”

“...Think they serve horse meat in Ippos?”

“Not _that_ , you moron, the other thing!”

“...We'd be better off as slaves?”

“Yes!” There came the spark, and Ma's grin looked like the glistening fangs of a snake ready to strike its next victim. “That's it! It's perfect! It's brilliant!”

Bouncer paled, and he clasped his hands together to beg. “Aw, Ma, please don't sell us as slaves! We'll do better this time!”

Burger gave it some thought. “Slaves are supposed to be fed regularly, right?”

Ma grabbed them both by the ears and knocked their heads together, the sounds of their skulls bonking sounding much like two hollow coconuts colliding. “The girl, you fools! It's about the girl! I'm going to make her into a slave! That will bite Goofy's pride something fierce, and that woman will never dare to stand up to anyone again, much less us!”

Slavery wasn't found everywhere in Greece, and the more reputable lands banned it altogether. But there were still plenty of places that enforced it, and of course there were several Beagles who were more than happy to take part in such a despicable trade. Because of this, Ma knew a thing or two about how slavery worked, including a few tricks in order make the system work for you. Slavery wasn't used in this sleepy town, but it wasn't illegal there, nor was it so in Ippos. It still came with its own set of rules and regulations, and Ma knew just how to bend them to her will. It wouldn't be easy, and it could take some time, but for the desired results it would be worth the wait.

“Oh, I can just see it now,” Ma cackled, fire and brimstone burning in her eyes. “That woman crying and begging as she's taken away and branded, and the goof can't do anything but watch! It'll eat him up forever! Or even better, he'll just stop eating, and die off!”

As Ma cackled with horrific glee, Bouncer and Burger exchanged a silent, worried look. Being bad was a hereditary trait at this point, but Ma's ecstatic joy at dooming a young woman to slavery and wishing death upon a clumsy bystander was starting to cross a line that made them as nauseous as Goofy currently was. They wouldn't dare tell her how much she was scaring them, or defy her in any way. Ultimately it was no skin off their nose, but they'd be looking forward to when it was all over. If Ma was this upset over one man giving them trouble, what would happen to the entire village if she desired vengeance? Had she always been this blood-thirsty and only just now showing it?

The real answer was a mix of yes and no. While Ma didn't believe in the gods, the gods believed in her. Specifically, Pete believed that any mortal was capable of destruction and suffering, and in his unending quest to make a war, he'd left Mount Olympus yet again in order to push people over the edge. All it took was simple poke to the back to the head to ignite their anger, and the Beagles were often the easiest sources to create a ruckus. In his boredom, he was poking anyone in sight, trying to create something, anything, to make his life more entertaining. Igniting Ma's rage was merely him passing by. He'd barely been listening to anything that had been said.

Pete had gotten the gist of what happened with Aphrodite, and it confused him to no end. He still would have been angry if she'd chosen any of the other gods that lived on Mount Olympus, but at least he would have understood it. But marrying Hephaestus? A reject god? Where was the logic in that? His wars were dying off, and the woman that was perfect for him had turned out to be imperfect. Had the entire world gone topsy-turvy? He was a god, his life was supposed to go exactly the way he wanted. If it didn't, that made him no better than a mortal – which to him meant being no better than cattle.

The only sensible conclusion he'd been able to reach was that because Minnie was the goddess of love, she loved everyone, which included scrawny ugly losers that lived on the mortal plane with the rest of the trash. She must have chosen him because if she'd chosen anyone on the Mountain, there'd be even more fighting over than usual. That had to be the reason, nothing else made sense. It didn't mean he had to like it. It also didn't mean he'd completely given up on her either.

All Pete had to do was prove his superiority to her, above all other gods. She hadn't yet officially married Hephaestus, so there was time to fix things. But as it stood now, he had no accomplishments to his name, nothing that made him stand out. He was – dare say it – ordinary! Common! Just like everyone else! What a horrible thing to be, when you knew you were better than everyone else. He needed to find some way to impress her, some way to include her, something that would prove he deserved to have her. But Pete wasn't creative, and he knew nothing about women, save for how well they could fight.

He stopped for a moment when he realized he was by Goofy's house. He still remembered the vow he made, mostly to himself, that the future chariot race would be full of blood and broken bones. But he also knew that all races ended eventually, and so his entertainment wouldn't last long. Pete scowled at the house and at those who lived in it – and he also remembered that extremely strange girl with no memories to grasp. He'd easily forgotten about her until just then. She was a mystery, and mysteries were difficult to solve when you typically solved everything with violence. 

Pete rubbed his stubbly chin. Maybe if he solved the question of the mystery mortal, Minnie might come to respect him, love him, and marry him, all in one fell swoop. Oh, but that'd mean he'd have to _think_ , and _work_ , and _ugh_ , all that effort! He'd have to clear his schedule of sitting on his big butt and watching the world in hopes of finding a war. She'd better appreciate the sacrifice!

He didn't know where to start, but maybe he could get some help from the other gods – no, correction, he would _make_ them help. Who was going to stop him? Zeus? That was a laugh! No, soon Pete and Minnie would be the real power couple of Mount Olympus.

Pete began to plot, as Ma began to plot, and Gyro began to plot in that small town, and elsewhere Minnie was plotting and Mickey was plotting, and no doubt across the world many people were coming up with many ideas. As usual, no one had any idea of any potential danger at their door.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my wonderful editors, Drucilla and Blueshifted. Not only are they great editors, they're fantastic pals.
> 
> Used some pieces of a storybit in here. When the story was in its early planning stages, the big gift was going to be a necklace. But after reading up on more mythology, I discovered a tale where Heph made Aph a tiara... and things rolled from there. (Additionally, after this, I can't help but picture Genie doing a certain scene again - TELL, HIM, THE, TRUUUUTH)
> 
> No, Gaia didn't make her. You'll just have to wait for more pieces of the puzzle.

Mickey had always believed that the transformation behind sea glass was a beautiful thing. What were once useless, broken pieces of common glass tumbled and rolled on sandy shores until it was softened into something more soothing. It was a process that took years, so finding each piece was like discovering treasure. Even if he didn't have immediate plans for it, he always kept whatever sea glass he and the Axelias found, just in case. He figured some day he would find a need for them, and lo and behold, that day had come.

He had used every last piece of his collection for Minnie's tiara, and had no regrets about it, as he clicked the last one into place. Though his feelings for Minnie were often complicated and overwhelming, he believed there was nothing more he could do for his project to prove its perfection. On a hot summer day, perhaps a week or so since he'd met his first mortal, Minnie's promised gift was finally finished. He had once dreaded this moment, and while that feeling wasn't completely erased, now it didn't devour him whole either. He knew Minnie wouldn't leave him once she had her gift.

Minnie had proven that she cared for Mickey for far more than what he could create for her, and even with his immortal lifetime he couldn't repay all the kindness she'd given him. She would visit him and take him places for as long as they both lived. There was nothing he could say or do to drive her away – which, perhaps, included telling her that he loved her. Mickey sat on his workbench for a long time when the tiara was finished, already missing the feel of grass and gravel underneath his feet. He wanted to go outside – not to make Minnie happy or to see his fish family or to gather materials. He just wanted to be outside. What a strange, happy concept.

He slowly reached for his walking stick, and as he stood up, the closest Axelia stopped sharpening one of his old swords. She moved to pick up his wicker basket, but Mickey held up a hand. “No need for that. You can stay inside. I'll just be out a little while.”

She didn't move, her hands in a frozen position. “This-Is-A-Change-Change-Change.”

“Sure is,” he agreed, taking his time to walk. “Do me a favor. Take my bed sheet and cover the tiara with it. Knowin' Minnie, she'll bounce on in here any second. I wanna make this a nice surprise.”

“This-Is-Also-Also-Also-A-Change. You-Do-Not-Care-Care-Care-To-Surprise-The-Mermaids-Or-The-Nereids.”

“Minnie is different.” That felt like saying water is wet and the sky is blue. Yet even as he said it, he knew it was not that simple. “But all the mermaids are different too. And the nereids. They might act alike, but they're each their own person. So's everybody, I suppose. Everyone is their own person...Mighty silly thing to worry about a whole bunch of them...” he trailed off, thinking that just as every mortal was a unique individual, so was every god and goddess. Not all gods were like his mother and father, and presumably not all mortals were like Goofy and Agalma. If he was willing to give it some truly deep consideration, then the person he thought he hated most might be different than what he expected.

Not that he had any desire to meet Aphrodite, nor did he still like the mere idea of her. But it was something to consider, something to change, and his chest didn't feel heavy with hate. As he watched Axelia enter his bedroom to grab the sheet, he wondered if he had done her and the other Axelias a great sin by not ensuring they had their own unique personalities. He had only created them when he first understood there were things he couldn't do all by himself. They had been additional arms and legs, that was all.

Yet he had given them the ability to speak. It never really dawned on him until then that giving them the gift of speech had been wholly unnecessary for their duties. Then why had he done it? Why had he worked so hard to give them the illusion of hair and clothes, of a face with eyes and lips? Was it because he had wanted something natural to look at? Or... had it been for them?

Axelia walked back inside, having rolled up a single sheet in her arms. Mickey cleared his throat. “Axelia?”

She stopped again, and watched him, awaiting the next order. Mickey hobbled over, wishing he had something better to say, but words were not what he'd been blessed with. He looked up at his much taller servant, at a face that could never change expression and eyes that could never blink. He could hear the click and clack of gears moving within her body. Maybe Axelia wouldn't understand, but that was all right. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and hugged her tightly, her golden body still and cold. “Thank you,” he murmured softly, unaware that the other Axelias in the room had paused in their jobs to see what was going on. “I don't say it often enough...No, I don't think I ever said it. I should say it a lot more. I promise, from now on, every single day, I'm going to thank you.”

Mickey didn't expect any kind of response, and didn't mind. So he was slightly surprised to feel Axelia moving to kneel down, and return the gesture in an awkward attempt to copy him. Was she just trying to mimic him and learn? He didn't believe it, and he didn't ask. Though her body was metal, in that moment she felt as warm as sun-kissed skin. If there was a way to give her the beauty of individuality, he would find it. A smile had graced his face without him realizing it. “Say, uh, after you cover up the tiara...Could you all do me a favor?”

“All-All-All?” Axelia repeated, pulling back enough to see his face and ensure what he meant. 

“Yeah, this goes out to everyone.” Mickey nodded once. “Whenever Minnie gets here today, could you... maybe just... turn around?” His cheeks tinted, already embarrassed. “Or, go outside and gather some food from the trees? Just for a little while! Maybe an hour?” If he couldn't get out the words “I love you” to Minnie in an hour, he absolutely didn't deserve her. But today he was going to put faith in his feelings, and even if they wouldn't be returned, they needed to be said. Minnie had more than earned all the truth and honesty he could give her. To hide it any longer seemed selfish on his part.

Axelia stood back up, an obedient mass of gears and machinery again. “Yes-Master-Master-Master.”

Mickey's eyes hit the ground, and then lifted back up. “One...one more thing. It's the last one, I promise!” A gulp, followed by a heavy sigh through the nostrils. “Could all of you...stop callin' me Master? Just Mickey's fine. Just plain ol' Mickey.”

“Mickey-Mickey-Mickey.”

A soft chuckle left him. “Mickey, Mickey, Mickey it is, then.” He could always try to improve the way she talked, but he liked the imperfection. After he found a way to give them all different and varying personalities, he'd ask them if he wanted their speech corrected. One project at a time. Right now, it reminded him of the cheerful, squealing cries of the mermaids and nereids. He'd have to thank them too, next time. He had so much to be grateful for, and had it not been for Minnie, he wouldn't have seen this. Even when she wasn't around, he now had the ability to be happy. What a wonder.

He resumed his walk, waving to the other Axelias he passed. Each one stopped what they were doing to copy the gesture, and his heart swelled. He loved them, he truly did. He loved them, he loved the mermaids, he loved the nereids, perhaps he could love Donald and Daisy and Goofy and Agalma, and he loved Minnie dearest of all, and his heart felt it was growing bigger and bigger. When he walked into the sunlight, he stopped, and closed his eyes, letting the pleasant rays wash over his body. He had never appreciated the sunlight before either, or the smell of the salty sea.

Whenever Mickey left his cave, it was to either get supplies or give his fish family what they requested. He'd never left to merely enjoy the feeling of being outside. The world was so vast, and it was full of amazing things and amazing people. Even if Minnie didn't return his feelings, it would hurt, but it wouldn't kill him. The sun would still be warm, the air would still smell salty, and she would still come to see him. He would still be happy.

“Mickey!”

Of course, he was much happier to have his name spoken by the one he adored most of all. His eyes snapped open, and there was Minnie, carefully making her way around the sharp rocks. Her flowing robes were the color of pink peonies, soft and welcoming, and for a brief moment her eyes had the same shade. After a blink, they were green sea glass, and without any warning she was in his arms, squeezing him tight, a toppling hug he was never going to adjust to. Mickey laughed, and he held her with one arm. “Hiya, Minnie! I swear, you always act like it's been years since you last saw me.”

“It always feels like years,” Minnie replied, snuggling up close without any sign of letting go soon. “This is like my other home!”

“Other home?” Mickey asked, quickly getting an idea of what she meant. “Oh, so the first one's Mount Olympus? Guess every god and goddess calls that home, it's where we all start off.”

“Ugh, not that place.” Minnie scrunched up her nose, the mere mention of the name disgusting her. “I never go there anymore. Everyone's all rude and stuck-up and awful. There's nothing in the world that could make me go back there!” Along with that, she hadn't “started off” there either. She came from the ocean – but if she said that, he'd know she was Aphrodite, and that conversation was being put off day after day. Minnie kept telling herself she'd reveal her true identity soon, which was easy when soon could mean anywhere from tomorrow to six years from now. But she planned to tell him! Wasn't that good enough?

“So what's your first home?” Mickey inquired with a curious raise of his brow.

Minnie pointed behind her, feeling safe to say this. “The sea! I always feel like I'm where I'm belong when I'm out there, with you and Donald and Daisy. Daisy has the boat today...Oooh, I wish we could go out today!”

“Don'tcha worry none.” Mickey poked her nose, eliciting a flurry of delighted giggles from his companion. “I've got blueprints for our own boat in the works! One day, we can sail without borrowin' from Donald and Daisy! It's gunna be swell! See, I got this whole idea for a thing called an 'engine', and if it works out, we'll be at all new speeds! We can get to places way faster than before!”

“Oooh, that sounds incredible!” Minnie's eyes glittered, attention caught. “Tell me all about it! How does it work? What's it made of?”

Mickey wanted to engage in another fun conversation with his friend, answering her questions while educating her on the world he came from, but he had to force the urge down. “Uh...maybe later, Minnie. See, there's somethin' I gotta do first. Come on inside.” Minnie at last untangled herself from Mickey, following him inside the cave. As they passed the Axelias, they saw Minnie and placed down their tools, heading for the outside of the cave.

Minnie watched this with puzzled eyes, tugging on Mickey's arm. “Where are they all going?”

“Um. Out?” That embarrassed feeling was back in full swing. “They'll be back later.”

Minnie bit on her lower lip, having a fairly good idea what was to come. This felt like cheating – she knew the full extent of his love for her even without whatever romantic gesture he was about to display. Yet she wasn't going to interrupt him. There was a world of difference between knowing something and having the words formed for you. She wanted to hear in Mickey's own tongue the way his heart beat for her. She wanted to keep the words with her locked tight in her heart, to keep with her always.

As they entered the furnace room, she also wanted to tease him a little. “Axelia, why are all of you leaving?”

The last leaving Axelia looked at her, then to Mickey, then back to Minnie. “Mickey-Mickey-Mickey-Asked-Us-To-Leave-When-You-Arrived.”

“You didn't have to _tell_ her!” Mickey quickly huffed, swearing that now even his nose was blushing a deep scarlet.

“You-Did-Not-Ask-Us-Not-Not-Not-To-Tell-Her.” Maybe he didn't need to invent personalities in them. Maybe they were too smart-aleck already.

“Get outta here, will ya!” he barked once more, and the last Axelia exited the room. Minnie was grinning like a loon, and Mickey chose to ignore it, clearing his throat. “Take a seat. Please.”

There was only one seat in the whole room, which was Mickey's work bench, and Minnie sat down, smoothing down her dress. She placed her hands in her lap, and awaited him expectantly. “What is it you need to do, Mickey?”

Mickey's eyes flew to the hidden project – which, given that it was still atop the work slab and covered in a raggedy bed sheet, was a poor excuse for 'hidden' – then back to Minnie. He'd never done a dramatic presentation before. His usual gifts were just thrown at the fish girls. His hands clenched and unclenched around his walking stick, and he ran his teeth on his lip, anxiety rising. “This here,” he began, “is your tiara. I want you to know I worked real hard on it. I think it might be the hardest thing I ever worked on. Cause, um, well...it's more than a tiara, you understand? It's...” Maybe he should've written this down first – no, he still would've stumbled. “When I make things for other people, it's usually what they want. But this here... this has something I wanna say in it. I'm no good with talkin', Minnie, not when it's this important. I put my everything into this, because...because...because you _are_ my everything.”

Unable to push anymore words out of his squeaky throat, Mickey yanked the bed sheet off. Minnie gasped.

Green wires circled twists of coral, working together to create a pattern of strength that would loop around the maiden's head, creating the illusion of rolling waves swimming upward. White ark shells bloomed where Minnie's black ears would be, and above her eyes would dangle blue and green angel wing shells, the sound of their touch echoing waves crashing upon the shore. Long threads of wire were made to fit sea glass, up and down and circling everywhere, catching the light of the flickering torches, and these would spill down as if Minnie would have hair made out of sea glass itself. The largest piece of all would be in the center of Minnie's forehead, where dazzling white pearls formed the shape of a teardrop.

Minnie had reached out to touch it without even thinking about it. It seemed to sing the song of water as she ran her fingers over the glass and shells, and the sight of it was enough to make her eyes wet. Each inch had been tended to with care and devotion, leaving not a string or pebble out of place. In the same way she had felt agony within every carving of what was once a statue of Millicent, she could feel the bliss that her company had given Mickey. Each setting was a place of rapture, and it had given him elation beyond the stars to make this. This was joy. This was love.

She was afraid to put it on, a wrong move shattering what came from a place of dreams and fantasy, but thankfully she didn't have to try. Mickey was delicately lifting it, and Minnie sat back up, breathing heavily, a hand to steady her pounding heart. He slowly slid it around her head, letting it slide into piece. Naturally it fit perfectly, as if he'd been able to mentally measure her head every which way. Mickey stepped back – and it was possible he'd done _too good_ a job, as the power of Minnie's overwhelming celestial beauty combined with such a piece of breathtaking artwork was enough to make Mickey fall to his knees. It had matched her changing eyes, her adorable face, her angelic figure, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever walk again.

He didn't bother trying to get up. “Looks-” he stammered, wiping excessive drool from his lips, “Looks...Looks good on you.” Never would a greater understatement be said.

“Oh, Mickey.” She said his name with all the tenderness she had for him, taking his hands and holding them tight. “This is the most wonderful thing I've ever seen. I can't thank you enough...I'll never take it off!” A giggle of ecstasy leapt from her, and she couldn't contain her giddiness any longer. “Oh, I'll wear it every day and every night! I want everyone in the world to see what you created!”

It was now or never, and Mickey could feel his body shake. “W-well...whatever you wanna do with it is up to you now. It's yours. But I-I don't much care what everyone in the world thinks, not anymore. I care what _you_ think, Minnie.” His fingers began to link with hers, fitting so perfectly it was enough to make him wonder if his body was born to accept hers. “You've been the best friend I've ever had. You listen to me, and you talk to me, and you accept me. All of me. Not because of my leg, or 'even though' it's there. You accept all of me. You – you do so much for me, and I feel like my life was just...a really long waitin' time before I got to know you. Like I was _meant_ to know you.”

Mickey brought Minnie's impossibly perfect fingers to his lips, and kissed them. “I love you, Minnie.”

In that second, Minnie was back on the beach, Daisy alongside her, trying to discover the unknown god that the ditzy mermaids had spoken of. Mickey had sat on the cliffside, his eyes dull and his fur matted, showering his girls with care and giving none to himself. Anger and bitterness had swiftly spewed from his mouth, and he was in a dark loneliness that threatened to swallow him whole. Even then, Minnie had wanted to know him, wanted to see him, wanted to hold him, and wanted to bring him happiness.

Now here was Mickey, his fur clean, his eyes bright, and hope shined brightly through him like a new star. Minnie had certainly helped him along, but these were changes he'd ultimately brought about himself. He had options now, he could choose, and he wasn't letting fear hold him back from trying. He was bold and funny and smart and he was brilliantly, gloriously Mickey. She could love no other.

Her fingers left his lips and cupped his blazing cheeks. “Ever since I was born...I have been treated as something higher, or something lower, but with you, I'm not either. I'm equal. I don't have to be anyone else but myself. I've been trying to find a place, and a purpose...This is my home. This is my purpose.”

Mickey's eyes were widening and his jaw was beginning to go slack. She couldn't possibly be saying – but the strength of these words couldn't mean anything else – when had he grabbed her arms? How was it possible she was becoming more beautiful with every word?

“For so long, I was worried you would only care about how I looked-”

Most people would think a love confession would be one, long straight uninterrupted road to bliss, but Mickey didn't think this, blurting out, “I'm not like that! Of course you're pretty, anyone can see that, but you're so much more than that! I love everything about you, I swear! C-Cause you're so nice to everyone, even the folks who don't deserve it, but you don't take nonsense from nobody, and you try to think the best of everyone, and you always make things fun and exciting...” He would not let her think his feelings were only because she was pleasing to the eyes, no way no how! “I even love the bad things about you, like how you always pry into things and dive in without thinking and tackle me down every time you see me! You're the best friend I ever had – and the weirdest one too!”

Had this been why it'd been so difficult to explain to Donald, and the fish family, and even himself, about this feeling? You weren't supposed to call the one you love _weird_ , were you? But – but perhaps that just like every single mortal and god was different, the way they felt love was different too. Maybe the way he felt toward Minnie wasn't the exact way Donald felt towards Daisy, or for anyone else across the mortal plane. Even better, maybe there was nothing wrong with that. If he had been in denial, it might have been because he thought love was one-note, simple, pure, and that your other wouldn't have flaws. Yet here he was, telling Minnie all of her faults, yet still loving her all the same, and her smile never wavered.

… Oh, boy, he was _still saying it_ , wasn't he?

Yes, Mickey hadn't shut up since Minnie brought her one worry, and Minnie was never going to get a word in at this rate. She suddenly yanked hard on his cheeks, making him flail and falter until his hands were slapped onto the workbench, and he found himself nose-to-nose with the girl he was hopeless for. It was an effective way to silence him, save for the audible nervous gulp.

“If you want a reason for how I feel, I'll give you a million,” Minnie whispered, eyelashes fluttering in a way that made him choke, unwilling to let him go. “If you want me to leave, I'll do that too, even if I cry after every step. I'd do anything you'd want me to do. If it made you happy, I'd grab the moon and deliver it right at your feet. You make me happy. You make me whole. Forever and always. If I was born for any reason, if I was meant to exist, then it was to be with you until the end of time. I love you, Mickey.”

Minnie wouldn't allow him to have even a millisecond of doubt. Being the goddess of love, she physically showed her affections whenever possible, but she'd never given a true kiss before. Despite this, she knew exactly how to give one, and with one final push, she pressed her lips onto Mickey's mouth before another breath of air could be drawn.

The combination of the world's most perfect kiss, from the master of love who had been able to hear what she longed for most, planted upon one who had never been kissed and who'd been denied affection for most of his life, was enough to do several things across both the mortal and immortal planes. 

First off, exactly one hundred and six people found the courage to propose to their loved ones. Seventy-six women found themselves carrying a child by those they cherished. Forty-two couples rushed to do an impromptu wedding. Two hundred and eighty three people fell in love, with approximately fifty-nine of them falling in love at first sight. Ninety-nine bold lovers found the irresistible urge to kiss their dear, sixty-four dates began to be planned, and eight decided to build new temples for Aphrodite. Donald decided to throw aside his schedule, appearing in front of Daisy on their shared boat. As Gyro explained how a chariot race functioned to his new friends, Agalma laid her head on Goofy's shoulder and he put an arm around her. Hera and Zeus held hands, staying together for the day.

The final effect was Mickey falling onto his back, unwittingly dragging Minnie down with him. Minnie let out a tiny yelp, and sat on Mickey's hips, trying to register what had happened. A look at Mickey's face told her that he'd nearly passed out – but peacefully so, given that stupefied beam he was wearing. Nevertheless Minnie hovered over him, inspecting to see if he'd bumped his head. “Oh, dear. Mickey, are you all right?”

Mickey inhaled as much as his lungs would allow. “Iiiiiiiii,” he drew out, slurring like drunk on his tenth cup, “Am... _the rightest_...I have ever been!” He began to laugh deliriously, extra glad that the Axelias hadn't been around to see it. His fists pounded wildly on the floor, and soon he didn't care how silly he looked. He was far too happy to care. The happiness that he'd been mooning over maybe an hour ago? That was nothing compared to this! “I- I am the luckiest guy alive! Ha ha ha ha! Aw! Oh boy! I don't believe this! Am I dreaming?”

Minnie pinched his cheek. “No, you're not. But there are other ways I can prove it!”

“Oh no you don't!” Mickey grabbed her wrists, teeth glinting in his hot grin. “You gotta warn a fella when you do somethin' like that!” He immediately proved himself a hypocrite as he gave Minnie no warning before kissing her in full, and from then on the echoes of passionate laughter vibrated from wall to wall. It was the perfect opportunity for Minnie to embrace Mickey and tell him every secret she'd been holding back from him – her true identity, her real reason why she came, and the promised engagement proudly declared on Mount Olympus.

It was the perfect time and she didn't tell him any of these things.

Those with a sympathetic ear could have accorded this to her worries of rejection and hurting the one she cared for most. Those with a critical eye could have deduced she was just too giddy in her blossoming returned love that she put all such troublesome matters away for another day that would never come. But those who believe in the workings of destiny could tell you that there never would be a more perfect time again, and that she would pay dearly for the well-meaning puzzles.

When an hour had passed and their giddy playing had yet to cease, the Axelias hovered around the entrance of the cave but didn't enter. They would wait all day and night, and centuries onward, if the sound of Mickey's joyful mirth didn't stop. It would stop eventually, and Minnie would leave eventually – Mickey wasn't going to get any work done now if he constantly had his adorable beloved at his side – so it wouldn't be a terribly long wait. But they waited nonetheless.

There is no god or goddess that can stop time, though many had attempted in vain before. In that dark cave, with a craftsman holding the goddess of love on his lap, where equality made for the most powerful bond of all, time still didn't stop. But it came pretty close.

~*~

Long after the effects of Aphrodite's wave of love around the world, Donald was alone by choice. He had told Daisy he was returning to the Underworld, which wasn't technically a lie, since he'd have to return there soon. In truth he'd gone to a lone hill that towered above Ippos, the town famous for its chariot races. He hadn't planned to go there exactly, and he mused that perhaps a subconscious part of him planted the idea there, what with Goofy's upcoming race. He'd merely wanted to go to a place of solitude and greenery for an idea that he was entirely positive wouldn't work.

Everyone else was content to let the mystery of Aphrodite's origins remain exactly that, but it had rested heavily on Donald's mind, along with the oddity of the mortal woman who “came from nowhere”, so said the Fates. Daisy seemed to be keeping her own secret, and for now, Donald had let her be. If she felt she had a reason to tell him, she would have. He'd give her time before needling her.

As for here and now, Donald knelt upon the grass, touching the soil with a flat palm. If anyone saw what he was about to do, they'd think he was nuts, and rightfully so. “Hey,” he finally choked out, almost afraid of a reply. “Did you do this?” It was if he was asking the very earth itself. Which he was. “Did you create Minnie? If you did, that's okay! I just – I just have a bad feeling about all this.” No response. Donald's hand curled up, scraping bits of dirt underneath his fingernails. “If you did make her, we could get some answers! The kid barely knows what she's doing. She needs help. She needs guidance. I can't abandon her like I did Mickey. Just...give me a sign! If you didn't make her, then where did she come from? I just want an answer!”

Nothing but the soft caress of wind on his cheek. Hehad known he wouldn't be heard and was still disappointed. It'd been his last option – there was no real way to prove Minnie's birth any other way. With a heavy sigh he stood back up and brushed down his robes. “Well, thanks for nothing, grandmother.”

Gaia hadn't been heard from by anyone since the fall of Kronus. Some had speculated she'd been killed – although how one could kill the very spirit of the planet was mind-boggling. It was much more plausible to think that she was asleep and no power could awaken her, if she even wanted to wake up. Losing her first children had devastated her so deeply that it seemed entirely reasonable she never wanted to be in a world without them – despite having other children that could have returned every ounce of her love. But to her, her first batch were perfection because of how she'd made them.

Donald was about to return to the Underworld when he caught sight of the people in Ippos. It was hard to see from such a height, but from what he could make out, a young man was parading not only his horse, but its recent foal, and eager kids were circling the trio, hoping the pet the walking baby. In that moment Donald was envious of the mortals, wishing he could be so carefree. Mortals were astounding in so many ways. They built with their own two hands what a god could snap their fingers for and receive in an instant. They were resilient, and never gave up. They continued to build and create and invent and Donald believed some day they would never need to pray again. Maybe the mortal race had already forgotten the legend of Gaia and the Titans – the monstrous children that her husband had deemed so hideous he sealed them inside earth's core. Would mortals ever be so selfish and cruel? Perhaps, but there were just as many who would welcome ugliness with open arms.

Yet for all the wonderful abilities of mortals, and gods as well, they couldn't make children on their own as Gaia had. Only Gaia, and no god since, could make another living thing based out of sheer love. She hadn't needed her husband or any male touch – all she had to do was desire for someone to care for, and they had come. It was taken as fact that it was because she was an elder god and so powerful that of course only she had been able to do it.

Donald watched a little girl trying to climb on top of the foal and wondered. Had it been Gaia's own natural ability to create them? Or had it been because her love was so strong, and no one since then could love as deeply as she had? He'd like to think not – he loved his wife with every ounce of his being, and in his own way, loved his nephew, and Minnie too. No matter what questions rang in his mind, they wouldn't be answered. So he answered them for himself.

No, Minnie was not a child of Gaia.  
No, Minnie didn't need to know where she came from today.  
No, he wouldn't abandon her, and he would do all in his power for her and Mickey.

Yes, he needed to get back to work.

And so Donald vanished, leaving behind a small clump of dirt, and the wind blew again, sounding like a softly knowing sigh.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my wonderful editors Drucilla and BlueShifted. When the going gets tough, the tough smack me upside the head and point out all the times I need to use commas.
> 
> I honestly didn't think LLL would turn out to be longer than As Dawn Broke, but then I've needed to make a lot of changes to this story that I didn't realize beforehand. So this probably won't being my best work (then again I'm biased) but hopefully you'll still enjoy the ride.

Some people, like Goofy, would say they're not good at “thinking”, but that wasn't true. Thinking isn't something one does wrong, as it is as natural as breathing. Coming up with ideas is something one can do wrong, however, and Pete was of this camp. He detested thinking about things that weren't war, or himself, or himself creating war. So trying to come up with the answer behind the mysterious mortal woman was driving him to frustration and he regretted going down this path. But one quality of him that could be viewed as good was that Pete never gave up when he wanted something.

He wanted Minnie, and if impressing her was going to make her belong to him, he wasn't going to give up.

Pete sat on his throne, watching a few petty squabbles on his Viewing Mirror. Occasionally he cast a glance out of the corner of his eyes to see how the rest of Mount Olympus was doing, and it angered him that it was the same as ever. Gladstone was admiring his reflection everywhere he saw it, including in the eyes of annoyed gods. Mortimer was testing out his latest drunken idea, the world's smallest glass of alcohol which he deemed a “shot”, and a few demi-gods murmured that it'd never catch on. It'd been many days since Aphrodite claimed she would wed Hephaestus, and just like that, every man on the Mountain had given up on her. What a bunch of weaklings! They'd been so ready to fight over her when she was available, but she says one silly declaration and they all went on as if she never existed. Didn't it bother any of them that she chose some nobody?

Pete was better than everybody, and therefore better than a nobody. He would make Minnie see his greatness, and there was no way Hephaestus could compare. Who was this guy, anyway? Pete paid so little attention to things outside of his own happiness that he hadn't bothered to look up when Hera announced her pregnancy centuries ago, and on the day of the sacred birth he'd been watching a bloodbath as warring nations fought over land. For Pete, being obliviousness was almost an art form. According to the other gods and goddesses, the name itself was forbidden to speak, lest Hera rip their heads off. Did this mean Hephaestus was a fearsome, terrifying god like Hades? Oh, if he was a strong, muscular opponent, Pete have be thrilled! A worthy opponent to fight would make his victory all the sweeter. He rolled his shoulders, and then leaned in very close to his Viewing Mirror, whispering as quietly as he could, hoping to avoid Hera's wrath.

“Show me this Hephaestus guy.”

What awaited him – a towering mass of ripped pecs and snarling teeth? Or a monstrous beast that could never be tamed? Or a small mouse with a twisted leg that was happily hammering a large yellow zig-zag?

Pete rubbed his eyes, but the vision remained. What was going on? He reached over to smack his mirror. “Hey, is this thing on the fritz? I said show me-” A quick glance around. “You know, _that_ guy!”

The reflection rippled, as if the mirror was saying, “That's him, buddy boy.” It was still the same image of the tiny god who was leaning back to admire his work. He picked up his walking stick, aiming to get up and – a walking stick? A _god_ needing a _walking stick_?!

Pete's jaw dropped, and he sputtered without making words. How could this be? In what reality would the goddess of beauty want a tiny, deformed loser? There had to be something more to this. He'd still beat the tar out of the mouse if it meant having Aphrodite, but it wouldn't even be a challenge. He could probably sneeze and this runt would fall over crying for his mama. Pete slammed his fists onto his arm rests -

And then he was in the cave. Mickey stopped where he was, startled, staring up at the giant that had suddenly appeared. The Axelias also paused in their work, all eyes on the snarling god of war. Pete glared at Mickey, and Mickey merely blinked at him. Was this one of Minnie's friends? “Um,” Mickey dared to speak first, raising his hand and wiggling his fingers. “Hello there.”

Pete put his hands on his hips and leaned down so he could be nose to nose with Mickey, his nose blowing hot air into the confused inventor's face. “Are you Hephaestus?”

Mickey tried to move backwards, but his work bench blocked him from going any further. “Well, sure. But I have everyone call me Mickey.” It was taking most of Mickey's will not to freak out at the gigantic hulking stranger that had suddenly appeared. But freaking out wouldn't solve anything, and thinking logically about the situation kept Mickey's panic from completely taking over. He forced a smile on his face, hoping it would hide his nervousness. “Who might you be?”

“Who am I?!” Pete repeated, roaring incredulously. Not only did this shrimp have the audacity to take away his Aphrodite, but he was so clueless he didn't know greatness when it was before him. He beat on his chest, pounding so hard that the maps and shields on the walls rattled. “I am Ares, the god of war!”

Mickey had heard the name in passing from his mermaids and nereids, but only the barest of details and what details they offered were often unpleasant. But Mickey was trying to change his attitude about making assumptions over people he didn't know, so he continued his effort to be sociable. Maybe offering a friendly hand and a continuing smile would make the hulking terror calm down. Mickey couldn't think of anything else that would make this situation better, or worse, so he kept using his nervous kindness as a shield. “Nice to meet you, Ares. What can I do for you?”

“Tell me what you got!” Pete pushed his finger into Mickey's big black nose. “What do you got that you think I don't got? You think you're better than me?”

“... I have absolutely never thought I was better than anyone else in my whole life,” Mickey honestly replied, eyes on the intrusive finger. “But I got plenty of stuff, if'fn that's what you're asking.” Instead of trying to go backwards, Mickey walked around Pete, heading to his collection of crafted weaponry. One look at Pete's detailed armor had given Mickey a hint about what he might like. “I bet you're the kinda fella who likes to fight with a sword.” Making something for someone was always Mickey's first and direct effort of interacting with others, and it'd had yet to fail him. Not that he truly gave it much thought – by now it was instinct. 

“Huh?” Pete was momentarily thrown off, but tried to pretend he hadn't been, straightening his back and sticking out his jaw. “Of course I do! Any real man fights with a sword! And that's what I came here to tell you, that a real man-”

“Why don't you try this?” Mickey unknowingly interrupted, gesturing for the closest Axelia to pick up a sword he had pointed out. This particular sword had a round hilt to cover the wielder's hand, and the very tip of the blade appeared to be at an angle, adding an extra twist to the stab. “Makes for a good scratch and a half, I'm thinking.”

Being a god of bloodlust, Pete was instantly taken with the blade. “Oooh, gimmie!” He grabbed it with his grubby hands, grinning wildly as he turned it over to admire the edges. “This would pack a real punch! And it's red, that's my favorite color!”

“It's got a matching shield, if you want it,” Mickey continued, smiling as he enjoyed Pete's reaction. Now his smile had less tension and was more honest. He'd never given a man a gift before, but right now it had the same appeal as his gifts to his lady-friends. Why had Minnie said all the gods on Mount Olympus were rude snobs? Ares was weird, but he appreciated fine craftsmanship. Maybe under all that muscle and brute force he was a decent fellow, much like how Donald was a good guy despite the smoke and screams. “Axelia, can you grab that for him? You can finish up that necklace later.”

Pete paused, and as he saw another Axelia beginning to hang up a necklace made of scallop and conch sea shells, he remembered why he came here. “Oh, I see...” He growled, clenching the sword tighter in his fist. “That's how you did it! You done bribed her! I could've done that, and I could've done it ten times better!”

Again, Mickey was lost, and he scratched his head. “Bribed who? What are you talking about?”

“I see it all clearly now!” Pete used the sword to point at the various jewelry here and there, making some of the Axelias back up as he wildly swung it around. “That's the only reason she'd go for a deformed weakling like you! You make her all these pretty things, that's gotta be the real reason why she said she'd marry you!”

Marry? Mickey needed a minute to recall, but when it did, it hit hard. Aphrodite had said she was going to marry him! He'd been meaning to bring it up to Minnie, but, well, after their big love confession and the thousands of kisses that had followed afterward, it'd been hard to think of anything else in her presence. “Now hold on,” Mickey held up his free hand, trying to cool Pete's temper, and more importantly prevent him from breaking anything. “I don't know what that lady is thinking, but I've never made anything for her. Shoot, I haven't even met her before! How am I going to marry a lady I ain't ever met?”

Pete eyed Mickey suspiciously, and then he aimed the sword near Mickey's throat. “It ain't a good idea to lie to me, funny guy.”

“I'm not lying!” Mickey insisted, and his own temper began to rise momentarily. “How do you think I feel about all this? Some girl I've never met – some girl I don't even like! - up and telling everyone I'm going to be her husband? I think it's insane! Besides, I've already got myself a girlfriend.” Mickey's mouth then clamped shut after saying that, for it was the first time he'd said it out loud. He had a girlfriend. Minnie was his girlfriend. It was a delightful feeling, and he wanted to say it again, to repeat it again and again – but maybe not in front of the guy who was holding a sword to his throat.

To Pete, this was a welcome relief. Of course she wouldn't marry this midget! She must have just used him as scapegoat while she discovered her real feelings for Pete. He roughly pulled the sword away, giving Mickey a tiny nick on his throat – Pete spotted the speck of blood and scoffed. A bleeding god, what a lark! “All right, but you better not get any ideas! Aphrodite belongs to me, you got it? Once I impress her, she's going to devote herself to me!”

Mickey rubbed the sore spot on his neck. “Gee, I can see what a charmer you are.”

“But since you were wasting my time, I'm gunna take the sword and shield anyway!” Pete grabbed for the shield, and it fit his arm perfectly. Mickey almost said that Pete was the one wasting Mickey's time, and Mickey was more than happy to give his things away, but he sensed it was not the best action. “And if you got any other amazing weapons, I'm taking them too!”

“Sure,” Mickey agreed, which annoyed Pete more – no one wanted to put up a fight these days! But Mickey had less of a desire to fight and more of a desire to get rid of the man who just threatened him. Maybe if Mickey showed off his most impressive, amazing work, Pete would get it and go. The blacksmith lightly tapped on the bizarre yellow object he'd been working on. “This here is what I call a Lightning Bolt. It's full of electricity, and ought to give your foes a nasty spark or worse! Course, my problem is that I made it too big and heavy to use like a sword or a spear... Might be better if you throw it.”

“Easy peasy!” Pete reached for the bolt, ready to show off his impressive strength, and that's when a case of incredibly bad timing occurred.

“Oh Miiickeeeyyy~!” So sang the sweet voice of Minnie, skipping down the hallway in a fit of joyful glee. “It's such a beautiful day outside, and I think we should go out and see it!” Which was really a pretense for going to see all their friends and happily announcing their union as a couple. But if she'd said such a thing, no doubt Mickey would be so embarrassed he'd refuse. “Let's go see Goofy and Agalma and-”

Not only was this a case of extremely, terribly, really just downright awful timing, it was also a case of wearing just the wrong thing to go with it. Minnie had chosen to wear the tiara that Mickey had lovingly crafted, and as she came into the view of both men, she was much more beautiful because of it. Pete would have been angry, but just merely angry, at the sight of Minnie in Mickey's cave – but seeing her as the jaw-dropping goddess of beauty, who could now make you swoon with a mere flutter of eyelashes, was enough to ignite his outrage so hot he could feel fire behind his eyes.

Minnie had never felt fear and dread so deeply before in her life, not even when she saw Donald's shadowy side. What was Pete doing here?! Had he said anything he shouldn't have?! Her mouth opened to explain and apologize, but nothing came out, and even as she broke into a heavy sweat she still remained very pretty. Was it too late? Had she ruined everything? Had Pete ruined everything? She was going to tell Mickey, she really was, it just hadn't been the right time or place or anything!

Mickey was the only one not deeply surprised by this meeting. After all, Minnie said she'd been to Mount Olympus before, so it made sense for her to meet one of the more famous gods once or twice. He had no idea why Pete was mashing his teeth or why Minnie was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, so he tried to ease the tension. “Sure, Minnie, we can go out! I was just helpin' Ares here with a few weapons he liked. You might like this one too, it's called a Lightning Bolt!”

Pete then whipped around, barking like a rabid beast. “Do you think I'm a Lightning Dolt?! You lied to me! You lied to my face! Nobody lies to Ares and gets away with it!”

Mickey could only reply with “Huh?” before Minnie dashed in, throwing herself in front of Mickey. “Don't you lay a finger on him! Mickey's done nothing wrong!”

“He told me he never even met Aphrodite, let alone had any plans on marrying her!”

“I meant what I said!” Mickey snapped, oblivious to Minnie's growing panic. “I never met that lady, and at this rate, I hope I never do!”

Minnie gulped. “Um... Mickey, dear, darling, love of my life, I think I need to... say something...”

Pete began to swing the sword again, harder and faster this time, making the mice duck every time he moved his arm. “Are you trying to play games with me? You're still lying! You're nothing but lies! She told everyone on Mount Olympus she was marrying you, and here you are!”

“Well she should've kept her big mouth shut!” Mickey growled right back, slamming down his walking staff. “Are all of you guys going to come down here and threaten me because of what she said? That lady's nothing but trouble! Maybe you're all better off without her, if she just treats guys like toys! You ever see that woman, you spit on her for me! She's done nothing but embarrass and humiliate me!”

Minnie's tiara was almost as light as air, but then and there it felt she was sharing the same burden as Atlas, he who held the whole world on his back. She sank down further and further, her fingers tangled in Mickey's brown robe, shaking harder with every word. “I'm... I'm sure she... h-had her...reasons...”

Pete was beyond infuriated now that these two dared to mock him, and he slammed his sword down, missing the mice but cleaving the lightning bolt in half. Sparks of electricity sizzled out of each end, and Mickey wrapped his arm around Minnie, even knowing that he could do little to defend her. Pete swung again, and this time he sliced away Mickey's maps, and slammed the projects that hung on the wall. The Axelias wore no expression of fear, but each one came to Mickey's side, holding hands and forming a golden cage around the loving couple. Pete faced the obstacle, and he could have easily torn through them without breaking a sweat, but that had the potential of hurting Minnie. What little sense he had told him that injuring a woman wouldn't endear them to you.

“I'll get you for this,” Pete hissed, spit dribbling from his lower lip. “Just you wait, I'll make you pay! Ares is nobody's fool! When I'm through with you, I'll make you regret the day you were born!” He then willed himself away, leaving the space where he once stood charred and blackened. A long, uneasy moment of silence passed, and then the Axelias broke up to clean up the remains of his attack.

Mickey exhaled deeply, loosening his hold on Minnie. “You all right?” When she nodded numbly, he kissed her forehead before turning to survey the damage. “Aw, gee, will you look at all this?” He knelt down to touch the severed lightning bolt, disappointment mingling with resentment. “It took me years to get this far! I might have to start all over again...Where does that guy get off, attackin' me for somethin' I didn't do?”

He expected Minnie to agree, and when she said nothing, he looked back at her. Minnie was clutching her dress, hot tears running down her face. “Minnie!” Mickey instantly put the troubles of his workload behind him, getting back on his feet and trying to find an injury on her. “Minnie, what is it? Did that jerk hurt you? Did he scare you?” She shook her head no, still unable to speak. “Is it me? I'm okay! Really, I'm okay! I don't mind startin' over, not too much, and I'm not hurt! … Well, I got a little thing on my neck here, but maybe you could kiss it better?” He grinned weakly, hoping that would get a kick out of her.

Once again, Minnie had tried to make things better without understanding, or even trying to understand, the consequences of her actions, just as she had with Agalma's life. If she had thought making that ridiculous marriage announcement would bring Mickey harm in any way, of course she wouldn't have done it. But she hadn't thought of him in that moment, not really. She wanted to stick it to Hera and all the other gods that believed they had the right to control her life. Her petty revenge had made things worse. Why couldn't she think, why couldn't she ever think about where her ideas led when she was gone? 

She didn't deserve his love, and she certainly didn't deserve to wear the tiara that he had perfected in her honor. She tried to yank it off with a choked sob, but Mickey's hand snatched hers, trying to still her. “Hey, hey, hey! Don't go hurtin' yourself now...I'll take it off you.” Mickey didn't understand why Minnie suddenly wanted the tiara to come off, but he gently slid it off her head, and put it aside on his work bench. “There now, no need for a fuss.” His arm curled around Minnie' back, pulling her into his embrace. “Maybe I ought to teach Axelia how to use those weapons I'm always makin'. That'd be a nice little security system.” He was saying it more for Minnie's sake then his own, affectionately nuzzling his nose to her wet cheek.

Minnie hiccupped, and finally found words, mumbling into Mickey's chest. “I love you. No matter what, I'll always love you. Even if you don't believe me, even if you hate me, I'll always care about you. I will always want you to be happy, no matter what you think of me.” He had to believe that, Minnie desperately needed him to know that as a fact.

Mickey himself was just befuddled. “Well, uh, sure, I believe you.” Hadn't they just declared their undying love for each other a few days ago? “Nothin' in this world could ever make me hate you... I think seein' Ares go crazy messed with your head a bit.” He tried to nudge her chin up, wearing a smile the entire time. “Didn't you say you had somethin' to tell me?”

Well. _Well_. “I, um. I...” Though she had kept promising herself she'd tell him the big secret one day, she'd yet to form an actual speech or plan of how it would go. “The truth is, I'm... I'm actually...” Of course this was just another way of delaying it. All she needed to say were two words. 'I'm Aphrodite'. Just those two. That was all. And yet...

“The truth is...?” Mickey repeated, trying to help her along without a clue as to what he was helping. Minnie had always told him the truth, so why phrase it that way? He tilted his head, blinking at her, waiting for the rest.

Minnie opened her mouth.  
I'm Aphrodite.  
I'm Aphrodite.  
I'm Aphrodite.  
“I'm... I'm sorry.”

There was now no way that Minnie could ever tell the man she loved that she was also the one he wanted to spit on. Maybe she was digging herself into a deeper hole, but at this point she couldn't even fathom how to climb back out. “I-It was nothing, really. Nothing important.”

“If you say it, that makes it important.” Though he truly meant it in a loving way, he couldn't help but be curious. The truth about _what?_ And what was it about seeing Ares that had brought it up? Why in the world would Minnie think Mickey would ever hate her? That was the most baffling thing of all. Hating the woman who brought love and light to his life – it was madness! Minnie was hiding something, but was it Mickey's place to force it out? This was Minnie, his girlfriend – his girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend, it even felt good to repeat it in his head – and she'd never hurt him. So why would she feel a need to hide anything from him?

“You're sweet.” Minnie mumbled.

Mickey wiped away the remaining signs of her tears. “Why don't we go see Goofy and Agalma?” As much as he wanted to know the secret, he wanted Minnie's happiness far more. They had eternity for her to say what she needed to. The here and now was more important. “That was a swell idea you had. And it'll give Axelia time to clean up the place.” He linked arms with her, and he was rewarded with an honest smile that made his heart sing.

“Y-yes, let's go see them...and we can tell them that we're finally together!”

Mickey began to blush. “Whaddya mean, _finally_?”

“Well, you were taking your time-”

“And how would you know? Aw, don't even answer that!”

The last sounds they made before leaving the cave were laughter, and for one more day, Minnie tried to hide her sins and the guilt they carried. Yet she couldn't help but think she didn't have Atlas's strength. One day, this weight would crush her and destroy everything she loved so dearly.

It just wouldn't be today.

~*~

Early this morning, Goofy was working on Minnie's singular carved peach. He still found it an odd thing to ask, but since he'd gotten so few requests over his life and she'd become a dear friend to him, he wanted it to be absolutely perfect. Because of this, he had gone a little overboard. Where Minnie would have simply been happy with the peach itself, Goofy was adding leaves, the cracked signs of a twig, little droplets of rainwater, and other details that were completely unnecessary unless you asked Goofy himself. Of course you had to have these things, the gift wasn't complete without them.

The real reason behind the extra additions was that when Goofy was sculpting, he didn't have to think about anything else except for his work. He could hear Agalma calling for him, letting him know Gyro had arrived, and he didn't want to think about the complications those two had unknowingly brought. He didn't want trouble, he wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. Just him and his workshop, all alone, with no one to bother him or make him do things that scared him. There'd been nothing wrong with that life.

Save for the fact he'd been completely miserable.

“Goofy, did you hear me?” Agalma was now tugging on his arm. “I said Gyro's here. Should I tell him you're busy?”

“Naw, I'm all right.” With a defeated sigh, he put his tools back on the work shelf, and brushed the dust from his robes. “Don't see what's gunna be any different about today, though.”

“What do you mean?” Agalma asked as they headed outside. “Every day is different. I've never experienced a day that was exactly the same as the one before.”

It was a child's wisdom, but not inherently wrong. “I mean, I ain't gunna be any better at racin', and Gyro ain't gunna come up with no big, super special chariot. We've both been tryin', but there's just been no point to it all.” Millicent would have cooed in sympathy, rubbed his back, and let him go back inside.

Agalma squinted, lips curling in frustration, and she stomped ahead of Goofy. “Well of course nothing's going to change if you think that way! If you don't want things to change, they won't, and that's all there is to it.” She crossed her arms, keeping her back to him. “But if you keep saying to yourself over and over you can't do it, how do you expect to do it all? Should I tell Gyro to go home?”

Gyro's cart had arrived, and he'd only caught onto the last question, causing him to scratch his head and wonder when he'd ridden into. “But I just got here! Is something the matter?”

Goofy let out an exasperated puff of air. Millicent never argued with him, Millicent always agreed with him, Millicent wouldn't – Agalma. This was Agalma. “N-Nothin', Gyro, it ain't nothin',” he mumbled quietly, turning his head away.

“'Ain't nothing' is a double negative, which actually means something is wrong,” Gyro pointed out as he climbed down, carrying several scrolls and ink quills under one arm. The cart itself was empty, as they used it as a make-shift chariot so Goofy could practice while Gyro plotted and planned. “If there's anything I can do to help, you just say the word! I feel we've made some real progress these past couple of days, yes we have! You no longer fall out of the cart, and I learned that blindfolding the rider will not heighten their other senses.”

“I think everyone in the village learned that one,” Agalma quipped, hoping that the previous experiment hadn't run over more than six feet. “Gyro, all your ideas sound great in theory, but when you actually pull it off, things tend to be disastrous.” No one had yet to teach her about tact, and so Agalma was continuously blunt. “Maybe you should think about the future of your ideas before trying them on someone.”

Gyro smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, well, um... I suppose that may be true. I guess I just get so excited that I want to see if it's a success right away. I've been out of good ideas for inventions for so long that now I can't tell a bad one when it's right in front of me.” Maybe now would be a good time to weed them out, and he whipped out one of the scrolls, unfurling it in front of Agalma. “How about this? Putting springs on the rider's sandals so he can jump high in the air as he rides, giving the horse less weight to pull!”

“Or he'd jump right out of the chariot and get run over by the other riders.”

“...Oh. H-How about this one?” He pulled out another, as Goofy uneasily climbed into the cart for practice. “A special pair of goggles that lets him see twenty feet straight ahead and nothing else!”

“So he wouldn't be able to see anything left or right?”

“...A trick mechanism in the chariot that would pop out carrots to distract the other horses?”

“Including the horse he's riding?”

Goofy was kind of glad to get away from this depressing conversation, tugging lightly on Little Helper's reins to get him going. It was true that his riding had improved bit by bit, and once he had found his balance it was only a matter of adjusting to increased speed. At first he only stuck to riding around his house, but Gyro and Agalma had encouraged him to ride out into the village, and even outside of it. It was even sort of fun, once you stopped worrying about running people over. But the minute he thought he wouldn't be better at it, that's when he'd accidentally let go of the reins or find himself heading for a tree.

As he looped around the house, he could see Gyro going through the last of his scrolls and Agalma needing to tilt her head to an absurd degree to even understand what the point of the invention was. He kept going, believing he wouldn't be any help in that conversation.

When Gyro had finished the last of his ideas, he sat on the ground, despondent. “Oh, why can't I think of anything helpful? I'm a disgrace to the Gearloose name! They might as well call me Gearlost!”

Agalma sat down beside him, going through the blueprints and notes Gyro had jotted down. There was something about them she just couldn't quite put her finger on, but it wasn't like the hard work Goofy put into his statues. It lacked passion. It lacked enthusiasm. It all seemed very rushed. She turned her head towards the sad bird. “Gyro, I'm starting to think you don't want to build a chariot at all.”

He lifted his head, surprised at her accusation. “What do you mean? Of course I do, I want Goofy to win!”

“But that's not the same as wanting to make a chariot.” Agalma tapped her finger to the papers. “I think you only want to do this so you can get the money. So it's not so much you want to build a chariot, it's that you want to win. Your heart's not in it.” She began to roll the scrolls back up, only lifting her head whenever Goofy passed by. “I know you said you want to help people with your inventions, but you're not going to help anyone like this.” When all of the paperwork was rolled up, she handed it back to Gyro. “Why don't you focus on what you want to do first? Maybe it'll help your head.”

Gyro rubbed his arms, knowing Agalma was right in the oddest of ways. Often it felt like she was the genius, despite having to learn basic things day by day. “Well...there is one thing I'd like to do with the money, but... it's ridiculous. It wouldn't help anyone at all. You don't want to hear about it.”

“Yes I do,” Agalma corrected him with a hint of irritability. “I don't like it when people make assumptions. Goofy makes a bunch of assumptions about me just because I look like Millicent, but I'm not Millicent, I'm Agalma. And I'm telling you I want to hear about it.”

While Gyro was curious about who Millicent was and what this woman had to do with anything, he couldn't find it in himself to reject Agalma's inquiries. He hesitated, and then sighed, moving to grab one of the scrolls. After unfurling it, he flipped it over, revealing odd drawings of fish, coral, and a round boat. “This belonged to my grandmother. She had all of these theories about the underwater world, and ever since she had me on her knee and showed me her designs, it was all I could think of. She died before ever putting any of her ideas into action, but they're still alive in me! I want to explore the ocean's depths, and find out if her theories are true!”

“What kind of theories did she have?” Agalma asked, moving to look over Gyro's shoulder.

“She had hundreds! Like the way certain species of fish migrated, and pressure grows the deeper you go...But the most amazing theory I want to prove is this!” Now his voice was growing loud with excitement, and he wildly tapped on the corner of the page, where a triangle sat with spewing lines. “To see if underwater volcanoes exist! If that was true, the whole world could change!”

Agalma smiled, despite having no idea what a volcano was, much less an underwater one. “I think that could be very helpful to the world! When people learn something new, it helps in all kinds of ways!”

Gyro's expression began to brighten more and more, the depression from mere moments earlier vanishing without a trace. “Do you really think so? Even if I can't think of how it would help people?”

“I know so! You never know what people will do with knowledge! It can inspire them to do so many things! I think you should absolutely work on these ideas, Gyro!” Agalma grabbed Gyro's hands and began to pull him to his feet. “You can do this _and_ work on the chariot! You don't have to hold back! Let the real you come through!”

By this time Goofy was coming around again, and when he did, Gyro cheerfully shouted towards him, “Goofy! Your girlfriend is just grand!”

Oh, no – what had Agalma done this time? Goofy tugged on the reins, trying to make Little Helper slow down to a halt. “Now you wait just a – she ain't my girlfriend!”

“Really?” asked Mickey from behind.

“I don't know what she is, but she sure ain't-” Goofy stopped, and then looked behind him, finding both Mickey and Minnie in their mortal forms on the wagon. He was quite sure the wagon had been empty seconds ago, but as is the way of gods, he couldn't say it with 100% certainty. Mickey smiled sheepishly at Minnie – he had yet to completely master teleportation, and Minnie giggled, finding his mistake adorable – Mickey had tried to go “where Goofy was”, instead of “where Goofy lived”. “Huh. Uh...well, hello, Mickey. Hello, Minnie. Nice to see ya again.”

“Friends of yours, Goofy?” Gyro asked, walking over with Agalma. “I didn't know we'd have an audience!” He reached out to shake Mickey's hand, and then Minnie's. “I'm Sir Gyro De Gearloose! A pleasure, a pleasure I'm sure!”

“I'm Mickey! This here's my girlfriend, Minnie.” Oh boy, he could say it again now, couldn't he? “She's my girlfriend.” It felt better each time he said it. “She's my girlfriend.”

“I thought you said she wasn't,” Goofy dropped the reins, climbing out the wagon. “You made a big ol' stink about it when I asked you if she was!”

“He was just hiding his feelings,” Minnie chirped, lightly poking Mickey's cheek. “But now we're going to tell everybody!”

“We're not going to tell _everybody_ ,” Mickey quickly countered.

As Minnie continued to insist the whole world should know, and Mickey replied that was absolutely not happening, Goofy couldn't help but feel a prick of jealousy deep in his heart. He knew it was wrong, and he was happy for them. All the same, it made him miss the days with Millicent, and as always when he thought of her his eyes drifted to Agalma, who wasn't Millicent. She was giddily clapping as Minnie went into detail about her relationship, much to Mickey's embarrassment, and Gyro was laughing with merriment. Goofy's envy grew and grew – none of them had ever lost someone so dear and important, so of course their happiness could stay and grow. His fleeting moments of happiness, even with good friends, were exactly that – fleeting. Without Millicent, he couldn't imagine being happy for long.

Yet...he'd been happier ever since he met Minnie, and Daisy, and all of these odd folks. Happier than he'd been in years. It felt wrong to be happy without Millicent, as if he was disrespecting the loss of her life. He shouldn't be happy, he wasn't allowed to be happy, but even as jealousy nestled in his chest, he didn't want any of these people to leave. The conflicting emotions waged war in his heart – he shouldn't be happy, but he didn't want to be unhappy. What would Millicent do in this situation? He didn't want to move on, couldn't possibly move on -

“Show them how good you've gotten!” Agalma's voice became clearer to hear now that she was holding his hands and tugging at him with great excitement. Apparently while Goofy had been licking his wounds, or making sure they remained open, she had gone into detail about Goofy's racing. “He's really amazing when he concentrates!”

“I wanna see you in action myself,” Mickey agreed, smiling and nodding. “And when the big day comes, you can count on me bein' there!”

“Me too!” Minnie raised her hand, jumping up and down. “I can't wait to see you race!”

Goofy begrudgingly began to climb back into the wagon. “Don't get your hopes up, it ain't like I'm gunna win.”

“So what?” Minnie asked, and Goofy stopped, confused.

He turned back. “Whaddya mean, 'so what'? What's the point of watchin' me if I ain't gunna win?”

To Minnie, the answer was astonishingly simple. “To see you having fun.”

“I concur!” Gyro slapped Goofy so hard on the back he almost fell over. “Even if you don't win the money, I'll be glad to watch you go! I'll cheer you on every lap! Research shows that cheering boosts morale by 10.6%!”

“Your statues are very lovely,” Agalma said without a hint of irony, “But you can't spend all your time with them. You've got to go out and see the world. If I could have walked outside of those walls sooner, believe me, I would have ran!”

“I've been in a similar position myself,” Mickey admitted, casting a grateful glance at Minnie. “And sometimes folks gotta push you into doing something you're afraid of because you'll never do it yourself. How do you know you don't need to see the outside, if you don't know exactly what's out there to miss?” Minnie gave a slightly weak smile in return, and hugged his arm.

Goofy said nothing, eyes moving from one friend to the other. He couldn't think of anything he'd done to win their devotion. He'd just been himself, and there was no way he was this incredible. He still said nothing as he picked up the reins, still said nothing as he tugged Little Helper into action, and still said nothing as the horse's trots turned into gallops.

But he smiled, and that smile held on as he sped throughout the entire village, running laps around its borders and avoiding the waving citizens he passed. He did this again and again, only hearing the enthusiastic cheers of his friends, and for perhaps the first time in who knew how long, he did not think of Millicent.

And he was not miserable.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, super huge thanks to my editors Drucilla and BlueShifted, who waited patiently while my hard drive exploded.
> 
> A short chapter, but think of as taking a breath before we dive in, because the next chapter has the moment we've all been waiting (or dreading?) for. Also, Wolf is an actual character from the old days of Disney comics!

Ma Beagle woke up with more anger and maliciousness than she did most mornings, but it wasn't entirely her fault. Pete was also feeling more angry and malicious these days, feeling that Hephaestus had mocked him and Aphrodite was playing games. Pete didn't like to play games unless he won. If he couldn't immediately exact revenge on the two mice, then he'd have to make someone else suffer. That resulted in him wanting Agalma to suffer, since it was her fault for being such a hard mystery to solve. All of this amounted up to him appearing in the Beagle household and poking a fat finger right into Ma Beagle's forehead, igniting her desire for revenge right that second.

The business of owning slaves wasn't that complicated, and most evil pursuits are disgustingly simple. So it was with great ease that Ma Beagle had located a man willing to help her make a profit, as she'd sold him many of her ill-gotten gains in the past. Wolf Barker was so amazingly average that very few people suspected this boring man made a living buying and selling absolutely everything, including people. His looks didn't stand out, being your average height, wearing your average clothes, and even his matted black fur didn't grab anyone's attention. He had little personality to speak of, as he chose only to speak when he was spoken to. So when Ma Beagle walked down the street with Wolf in tow, he was almost invisible. Few people paid attention to him over the infamous pain in the butt at his side.

At the Goofy household, he, Agalma and Gyro were packing up. Since the chariot race was in the next town over, they needed to start heading out before the day of the actual race. For once, all three of them were in high spirits. Even though Gyro had yet to come up with anything that would give Goofy an advantage in the race, allowing his mind to think freely had come up with less dangerous ideas. Agalma was eager to see new places and make new friends. Goofy was still nervous and doubted he'd accomplish much of anything in the race, but having so much support from his friends made it difficult to put him in a bad mood, thoughts of Millicent not-withstanding.

The three had almost finished loading everything up into the wagon, but just as Gyro was feeding Little Helper breakfast and Goofy was helping Agalma onto the cart, a horrendous cackle broke the air.

“Do you know what today is, goof?”

Everyone looked at Ma Beagle who had triumphantly entered the scene, paying no heed to the unremarkable side character, and were oblivious to the god keeping her wrath going. After a moment of thought, Goofy offered, “Monday?”

“Today,” Ma Beagle continued while pretending Goofy had said nothing, “is the day I make you pay for what you did to my family! I'm taking you off your high horse, and putting you back down in the dirt where you belong! And it all starts with your pretty little girl!”

“Ma Beagle, I presume,” Gyro muttered while leaning towards his companions. He'd been told about the troublemaker and had hoped to leave before ever running into her. He then cleared his throat, trying to create a friendly atmosphere. “Can any of this possibly wait? We need to get going, and by my calculations, we should start as soon as possible if we want to be well rested mentally and physically before the start of the race.”

Again, Ma Beagle ignored anything that wasn't a part of her plan. “I asked everyone in this village-”

“Do you mean intimidate and threaten?” Agalma quipped.

“Same thing. Anyway, no one in this village knows where _she_ came from!” Ma pointed an accusatory finger at Agalma, who merely blinked back while Goofy's eyes widened. “She's got no records! She's got no family! She's got no proof she ever existed until the day she walked out of your ugly house!”

“I think the house is charming,” Agalma said, still not comprehending what was supposed to be so frightening. 

Goofy stood in front of the wagon, as if that would prevent Ma from getting any closer to Agalma. “Oh, you leave her alone! All she did was try and stop your son from bein' a thief! If you wanna be mad at someone, be mad at me for sockin' him!”

“Honey, I am going to kill two birds with one stone here.” Ma slapped Wolf hard on the back, letting out another wicked cackle. “The one good thing about you nice types is that if one of you suffers, you all suffer! If that girl has no family, then Wolf here can take her and brand her as a slave! And if you pathetic lowlives think you can ask for help, the second the villagers hear what I've done, they'll be afraid of the Beagle name all over again! No one will ever stand up to me again! Isn't that right, Wolf?”

“Sure,” said Wolf, unaffected by the gasps of horror from Goofy and Gyro – Agalma didn't know what a slave was, but judging from those reactions, it wasn't pleasant. “Looks good, she'll make fine coin.”

“You – you – you - ” Goofy lacked the words to convey his shock, his fists trembling. “You wouldn't dare! I ain't gunna let you!”

“I must say, that's the most deplorable thing I've ever heard of!” Gyro raced to Goofy's side, helping create a tall barrier of righteous fury. “If you think we'll just stand aside and let you take her, your theory needs reworking!” Even Little Helper was snorting hard and stomping his hooves.

Ma rolled up her sleeves, revealing that most of her girth was muscle, not fat. “The only reason you got one over my boy was because he was surprised...I've taken him down with my eyes closed! A bunch of scrawny wimps like you, I can bend you into knots before you even blink! Now either hand over the girl, or I'll break every bone in your body, including the ones you didn't know you had!”

Goofy and Gyro exchanged a quick look – unfortunately, Ma did outweigh them both, as these men were incredibly skinny and lacked many things in the muscular areas. Wolf was also cracking his knuckles, in a bored fashion, so he was clearly ready to help as well. Even if by some grace of the gods they got away this time, Ma Beagle had an almost infinite supply of sons she could send after them. As panic raced in Goofy's heart, he grabbed the side of the wagon, beginning to shake it. “Agalma, run!” If he lost someone again – if he lost Millicent again – if he lost _Agalma_ – he wasn't sure he could handle it. No, he would not be able to handle it, could not survive another loss no matter how many friends he surrounded himself with. Death would be a better alternative than returning to nights of sobs and loneliness – the idea that someone he cared about so deeply would become a slave, a life reduced to agony and terror turned his blood to ice. It would be all his fault, because he couldn't do a thing. “Run away!”

“Run where?” Agalma asked. It was getting harder to become afraid of something you didn't know about.

“Anywhere!” He screamed, eyes burning and blinded by unshed tears. Last time he hadn't been able to do anything, hadn't been able to say goodbye, had been left behind. If the gods did exist, where were they, and why weren't they helping?! How was this supposed to “heal his heart”? He could not lose her, would not lose her, if life was meant to mean something than something so awful shouldn't be allowed to happen! “Go, go now! Get going before these two hurt you!” Gyro was gripping the wagon, his mind racing, trying to come up with a plan or an invention to save the day, but sheer panic interrupted his thinking process over and over as the menacing enemies came closer step by step.

“Why don't you just give him a statue?” Agalma pointed back to the house, growing more bewildered by Goofy's hysterics. She could only hope it wasn't her fault this time. “If he wants something pretty, you have lots of pretty statues. He just can't have me because I'm not a statue anymore. Do you think he understands?”

Brilliant ideas rarely came to Goofy, or at the very least he rarely recognized an idea when it was brilliant. So when this momentous occasion sparked in his brain, he slowly raised his pointer finger at Agalma, speaking carefully. “...Could... could you say that again?”

“Do you think he understands I'm not a statue?”

Ma rolled her eyes, storming over and shoving Gyro aside so hard her fell on his back. “If that's your idea of a goodbye, I never want to hear your hello. You're coming with me, girly!”

But for once in his life, Wolf spoke without being spoken to. “What in the world is she saying?” Funny enough, Pete was asking the same question, without anyone being able to hear him.

Goofy suddenly grabbed Agalma by the waist, hoisting her off the wagon and carrying her in his arms. “Agalma, I want you to say everything you remember about being born! Don't you leave out any details!”

Agalma tilted her back, and as she wove through memories, she swung her hand back and forth, making sure she hadn't skipped anything. “Goofy, how could you possibly forget? You're the one who carved me out of marble. Then you spent all that time making sure every little detail was right, even making me a nice necklace like you made for Millicent, since you carved me in her likeness and all, after she died. And then the goddess Aphrodite brought me to life in order to make you happy. Then I waited for you to wake up, since I wasn't sure if I was using my legs right. I figured you'd be the expert, you use legs every day!”

“What,” said Ma.

“What,” said Wolf.

“What?” said Gyro, alongside Little Helper's “Neigh?”

“ _WHAAAT?!_ ” bellowed Pete, hands clasping his armored head in total surprise. “She – she – she can do that?! That little girl?! She can make life? That's impossible! Not even Zeus can just _make life_ out of nothing!” But even as he said it, it had made sense, recalling the day when he had tried to go through Agalma's memories and found little to none. You couldn't recall what you didn't have, and marble wasn't supposed to have memories. How could Aphrodite keep this a secret? Why wouldn't you tell everyone and anyone that you had such phenomenal power? Pete had worked so hard to uncover this mystery just for her, and it was all for nothing, she already knew because it was made by her! Aphrodite could create life from statues! She could – she could - 

And then, all at once, Pete wasn't angry anymore. All of his fury was instantly snuffed out as he repeated that fact in his head. Aphrodite could create life from statues. She could skip the baby and child stages and go right for adulthood. Just a snap of her fingers, and poof, there was a mortal, a living, breathing, _bleeding_ mortal. Aphrodite could create life. Aphrodite had the answer to Pete's boredom. Pete now had a plan, and if it worked – when it worked, for it was ingenious – he would never need to hunt for petty squabbles again. What was he wasting his time for with these morons? He needed to start preparations now! Oh, soon, the world would be covered in blood and battle! And it would be thanks to him and Aphrodite!

With a pleased howl of laughter, he vanished, leaving the mortals alone with their little problem. Agalma had kept going on about the life lessons she had learned, from how to use a fork to learning what you could and couldn't drink, until Wolf threw his hands in the air. “Beagle! I thought you said you had a good bargain for me!”

Ma paused, having been ready to snatch Agalma out of Goofy's arms. “What are you saying? Look at her, she's a beauty! She'll make us both rich! Who cares if she says stupid things?”

“No one wants an insane slave!” Wolf barked back, although his expression was unreadable due to how mangy his fur was. “That's like selling a barrel full of holes, or a horse with a lame leg! She's either insane or telling the truth! If she's insane, she's useless as a slave. And if by some crazy miracle she's telling the truth, there is no way, no how, I am getting involve in a god's business! This is the last time I do business with you, Ma Beagle!”

“N-Now wait a minute, Wolf!” Ma stammered, unable to believe her revenge was over before it even started. “She's not insane! Really!” She whipped around to Goofy, shaking her fist in his face, but he wouldn't even back up. “Tell her to start speaking the truth! Tell me where she came from!”

Goofy smiled pleasantly. “She came from a really good wall of rock down by the coast. Real sturdy stuff.”

“I'm out of here.” Wolf turned on his heel, grumbling about the waste of time under his breath.

“Wolf, wait!” Ma began to chase after him – without Pete's constant lingering and poking, her wrath had come undone like a bad ball of yarn, revealing a pathetic lump of a lazybones within. “Who else am I going to sell my stolen goods to!”

“You could try not stealing at all,” Gyro called after her, without expecting any response. As the two canines left their sight, Gyro stood back up and brushed the grass off his arms, laughing merrily. “And here I thought I was a genius! We'd better go before she decides to vent her frustrations in a most unhealthy matter.” With another relieved chuckle, he climbed aboard and grabbed Little Helper's reins, the horse letting out a happy sigh of air through its nostrils. “It's that quick thinking that could help you in the race!”

Goofy sat down besides Gyro, and Agalma sat in Goofy's lap, having a few questions of her own. “Why were you crying? And why do they think I'm insane? What does 'insane' mean?”

Goofy didn't answer her at first, wiping away the remnants of tears from his face. Even though the danger had passed, the effect of it still weighed like a stone in his chest. When he found his voice, it was quiet. “I was scared. I was really scared I'd lose you.”

Agalma cupped her chin in her hands. “Lose me, or Millicent?”

It stung, but rightfully so, and Goofy didn't feel confident in answering. Gyro cleared his throat as the horse began to trot. “If I may...I may not know the whole story here,” and he still believed the statue ploy was full of clever lies, “But Goofy lost someone very near and dear to him, correct? You have my deepest sympathies. I'm sure she was very nice lady, being your friend and all. Grief isn't a subject I'm well versed in, much to my fortune, but I'm sure in time you will be at a place where it doesn't hurt as much.”

Goofy himself had never kept track of the time, but apparently Agalma had, having learned how to add and remembering the dates and years Goofy had forlornly spoken of when she was still stone. “It's been fifteen years.”

This was news not only to Gyro, who let out an awkward series of words, “Oh, I, uh, that is...” but also to Goofy who had never put it all together before. Fifteen years. That was a lot of time. A baby turned into a teenager in that amount of time. Several animals had their whole lifespan in that frame. Dozens of seasons passed. He looked out to his town as they rode on, trying to remember or notice what had changed in that time. Had he really paid attention to anything? Had he been alive? If Minnie and Daisy hadn't come along – if Agalma hadn't come – would he have spent another fifteen years alone in his home full of frozen life? Would he have just kept doing the same things, wrapped up in his misery, until the day he died?

“Gyro, you're a smart one,” Agalma stated, jarring the men out of their muddled minds.

“So I tell people.” Gyro was relieved to be on something he knew was true.

“Then you'll know. How long are people supposed to be sad over death?”

“Ummm.” Gyro inhaled and exhaled as deeply as he could, needing all that extra time to think of how to properly explain such a complicated issue. “Most people believe everyone should grieve at their own pace and their own time. And maybe a part of you will never stop grieving. But the way I see it, you shouldn't let it take over your life. If our departed loved ones knew we weren't doing anything except crying over them, they'd be rather upset. Life is for the living, it's the root word in and of itself! Although there has been some debate in the etymology of the word 'living', having two origins in different parts of the word, and often etymology itself isn't an exact science, but if you take the time to do the research...”

As Gyro rambled on about things the dogs couldn't possibly begin to grasp, Goofy looked at Agalma and Agalma looked back at him. Had she asked the question for him, or out of mere curiosity? She whispered so as to not distract Gyro from his ongoing explanations. “You once told me I should live for myself, not for you.”

“Meant what I said,” Goofy replied, although he had to admit that she'd taken that advice and ran with it. Most of what she did was for her own benefit, although she had been very loyal to him. Goofy almost thought it was the exact opposite of what Millicent would do. Except now that he had been burdened with the knowledge that it'd been fifteen years since he'd last seen her make any choice, he unwillingly had to admit that time and love could make memories appear differently. Millicent had a life outside of Goofy. But he could no longer remember when his life was outside of Millicent.

“I think you should take your own advice.” Agalma poked Goofy on his big black nose. “You should live for yourself, not for Millicent and not for me. If you don't like me, I'll be okay. But you should like yourself, and if you like yourself you should do things that make you happy.” She proudly patted her chest. “I like myself plenty.”

“Who said I didn't like you?” Granted, he'd thought it at one point or another, but never said it out loud. “You're a weird one. But I guess it ain't so bad. I'm not perfect either. Nobody is.”

“Not even Millicent?”

Now if that wasn't the biggest indicator that Goofy had definitely remembered things in his own biased light – he couldn't think of a single flaw Millicent had, except being dead. For all his woes, he knew that wasn't right. Everyone had flaws, even gods, given Aphrodite's clumsy idea at healing hearts. It seemed rather disrespectful that he couldn't recall anything Millicent had done wrong. He'd been thinking like that for fifteen straight years, so it was too late, he couldn't remember her any other way. He felt as if he owed her an apology – her and others. “I'm sorry, Agalma.”

“For what?” She tilted her head. Gyro was still going, something about how people communicated without words and how he wanted to develop a language with fingers.

“For treatin' you wrong. I think, well, once everything is all quieted down, once the race is over and we're back home... we should start over.”

She pouted. “Am I going to have to relearn everything?”

“Naw, naw! I just mean... I wanna give our friendship a fresh start. No more comparin' you to anyone but you. I wanna see you as you.”

“Oh!” Agalma clapped her hands together, pleased. “Yes, let's do that! No doing what Aphrodite wants, but what we want! I think that's a nice idea.”

By this point Gyro was winding down, finally remembering he'd initially been talking about grief and sadness. He intended to apologize to his companions, but they were smiling brightly at each other, lost in their own world. It was rather adorable, and he was loathe to interrupted, but a thought had occurred to him. “Agalma? You know we have seats in the back, right?”

“Yes, I know,” Agalma said, resting her head on Goofy's shoulder. “But Goofy is much more comfortable to sit on.” She almost suggested Gyro try for himself, but in a rare moment of actual selfishness, she decided she didn't want him to.

Gyro laughed once more, hoping it didn't sound like mockery. Goofy blushed, and tried to keep his eyes ahead. They left the town behind, and perhaps the man named Pygmalion left some other things behind as well.

~*~

Unlike Goofy, there were many gods who were more than satisfied with doing the same thing for years without end. Even with Aphrodite gone, Mortimer and Gladstone were able to pass their time in their favorite ways, such as getting hammered and reciting their own poetry. On occasion they would remember that Aphrodite existed, mourn their loss as if she'd died instead of happily wedding someone else, and then resume their own fanciful hobbies. As such they expected no trouble that day, both of them coincidentally occupying the same spot. Mortimer was trying a new flavor of wine, and in his excitement had spilled enough to create a large puddle, which allowed Gladstone to admire his reflection.

This saved Pete time, for which he was grateful. Instead of hunting them both down, he grabbed them both by the collar and began to drag them away, while they gagged and yelled as they uselessly flailed around.

“What's the big idea, you big lug?” Mortimer tried to dig his feet in the ground, but his weight meant nothing compared to Pete's might. “Put me down!”

“Did I miss something?” Gladstone frantically tapped on Pete's fingers, trying to get his attention. “Last I checked, didn't we stop fighting?”

Pete grinned, every tooth looking sharp and dangerous. “You two are the only ones I can count on for this super special mission! You should feel honored, you're about to become part of history!” More specifically, they were the weakest gods on Mount Olympus, which meant Pete could bully them into doing what he wanted very easily. Other gods and visiting creatures took one glance at the dragged deities and merely shrugged. If it didn't involve them, why care? Mortimer and Gladstone conceded that had the positions been reversed, they wouldn't have lifted a finger either.

The two were shoved into Pete's “room”, which now contained heaps and mounds and piles of marble. Pete pushed them towards the rocky mess, and then slapped hammers and chisels into their hands. “You two are going to carve a hundred statues! A billion statues! A kajillion-bazillion-megastupendoushugeillion statues!”

“That is absolutely not a real word,” Gladstone started, trying to shove his share of the tools into Mortimer's hands. “And I am absolutely not doing it!”

“Same here!” Mortimer argued, shoving them right back into Gladstone's hands. “I've got better things to do than make statues of you. Like napping.”

“First, you're not making statues of me,” Pete informed them as he crossed his arms, looming over them and reminding them of just how tall and mighty he was. “You're making mortal-like statues. And second, you _are_ going to make them, or else.”

“...Or else involves pain, doesn't it,” Gladstone guessed after a mighty gulp, and Mortimer felt himself shrinking under Pete's ferocious gaze.

“N-Now, wait, I think we're all forgetting something important here!” Mortimer vaguely gestured outside of the room, hoping his panicky voice would draw attention. “Once Zeus finds out you're beating us up for not doing what you want, he'll beat you up right back!”

At this Pete let out an amused little guffaw, rubbing Mortimer and Gladstone's head as if they were tiny children who misunderstood a basic lesson. “Aw, that was real cute. But here's the thing, fellas. Us bein' gods and drinkin' ambrosia and all, none of us can ever die. So Zeus can pummel me all he wants, but I'll get back up! The only reason he's the so-called King around here is because he led the gods against his dad. His title is nothin' but a fancy medal. The only reason he ever stops our fighting is when it annoys him! So what if he gets a little creative with his punishments? I'm the God of War, pain's my deal! Why, if I finally found someone who could give me an actual beat down, I'd be the happiest guy on Mount Olympus! Buuut...” He stretched the word out before smashing their heads together and letting them crumple to the floor like tossed garbage. “Weaklings like you can't stand it. And I don't mind beating you up for eternity if it means you do what I want!”

Gladstone could feel his head swimming from the impact, afraid to lift himself up. “I hate when he's right.”

“Has he ever been right?” Mortimer mumbled, only grateful that gods couldn't bruise so his good looks were unaffected.

“I still hate it.” Although they both shuddered at the idea of doing actual labor and, ugh, sweating, it was better than the alternative. Gladstone begrudgingly began to pick up the dropped tools. “How many of these things do we have to make? And why are we making them?”

“I'll tell you when the time is right.” When the men had finally gotten to their feet, Pete kicked them in the rump, sending them crashing into the marble. “And the time ain't right until I say it's right! So quit bellyaching and get to work! Just make me as many statues of mortals as possible until it's impossible!” His victims ultimately decided that asking any further questions would lead to more aches, so they reluctantly began their attempts. Within seconds they were audibly whining and moaning about having to use their muscles, and Pete rolled his eyes so hard they strained. “All right, you big babies, you get one detail. This is going to bring Aphrodite back.”

The god of poetry and the god of slurred poetry paused, glancing back at Pete.

“This is going to bring back the goddess of love and beauty?” Mortimer asked, curiosity and intrigue making the work seem a little less difficult.

“You can guarantee it?” Gladstone questioned, eager to see the prettiest person who ever existed, especially if it meant they had another shot of keeping her here.

“Absolutely!” Pete pounded on his chest with each syllable. “This is going to bring her back, I swear it upon my honor as a god!” If Mortimer and Gladstone thought more with their heads and less with other parts of their anatomy, they might have realized Pete had no honor. As it was, they were eager to see her again, the perfect decoration for Mount Olympus. So while they still dreaded doing actual labor, they withheld their complaints for the time-being.

Since they could never tire out, and never needed to eat or sleep, they were forced to keep going and learn as they went. They were worried about Pete lashing out at their hideous creations, but Pete hadn't hired them for works of beauty. As long as it had two arms and two legs, it was good enough for his master plan.

How many would be enough? It was hard to say, but he knew he couldn't have them carving for infinity or his plan would never get off the ground. So instead of waiting for the number of statues, he would wait a certain number of days before getting the necessary second ingredient for his idea. By then, he would surely have enough. Besides, once the idea was set into motion, he could always make his lackeys work again. Eternity was a wonderful thing if you cared for no one and nothing but your own pleasures.

As he watched the marble become chipped and dusty, nothing could wipe the sneer from his face. In that moment, he knew Aphrodite had been born for him, for she was the only person who could give him what he longed for most – his forever war.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, major thanks to my fantastic editors Drucilla and BlueShifted! Send them your love and praise!
> 
> EEEVERYBODY HURTS... SOOOOMETIIIIMES... Yep, it's the moment we've all been waiting/dreading. While writing the big moment, I had sad Sailor Moon music on repeat - which I do only recommend listening to if you want to feel like your heart is being shredded.
> 
> But keep your chin up, folks, 'cause the story's not over yet!
> 
> Also, originally in the plans for this story, Mickey did inspire Gyro - but as everything came together, I decided that perhaps it was best to do in a different direction, and I'd like to think it came out better this way.

Even though the grand chariot race was a few days away, the merry town of Ippos was in full celebration. Visitors from all corners of Greece were there to take in the sights and sounds, as merchants put out their grandest riding equipment and breeders trotted out their finest mares. Goofy, Agalma, and Gyro were slightly awestruck by the constant music playing and the eager shouting of excited crowds, and so didn't see their other friends passing right by. Mickey, Minnie, Donald, and Daisy had all decided to come together to take in the town and make plans for the day of the race. This was proving to be difficult as Minnie and Mickey were constantly distracted by everything. Mickey had to be dragged away from the musicians before he could take apart an instrument - as he had wanted to see what made it work – and Minnie kept running off to play with adorable children, loving each and every mortal she came across and wanting to know their whole life story.

After several attempts, Donald and Daisy finally managed to get their excited companions towards the coliseum. Mickey stopped where he was, leaning back to take in its majesty. “Will you look at that,” he murmured quietly, as if no one had ever seen it before. “That's gotta be the tallest building I've ever seen! Are you tellin' me mortals can do stuff like this, without any help from us?” It nearly touched the clouds, with carvings of horses racing around the exterior. Only riders were allowed in for today, with bored guards standing at the wide entrances.

“Isn't it grand!” Minnie exclaimed, running up to touch the walls – or would have, had Daisy not reached out and grabbed her around the chest, lifting her up and then setting her back down.

“Hold your horses! And that's the only horse pun allowed today!” Daisy said in exasperation, loving her friend dearly but already exhausted by Minnie's antics. “We can go in and look, but we'll have to pop out of our mortal forms. They're not letting in anyone in if they don't have a horse.”

“Can we get a horse?” Mickey asked in all seriousness, and instantly Minnie was at his side with the same hopeful look. “Pretty please?”

“No, you can't get a horse!” Daisy snapped, hands on her hips. “It has nowhere to live in that scrawny cave of yours!” She then shot Donald an angry look. “Can I get some help here?”

Donald couldn't resist the temptation. “Sorry, Daisy, I just hate being a neigh-sayer.” He felt the smack on the head was worth it, especially when he heard Mickey and Minnie laugh like giddy children. In all honesty he felt if Daisy wasn't there, he might have well bought both of them horses. Despite the fact they all physically looked like the same age, he felt a constant urge to spoil the mice like they were his own babes. He knew on some level Daisy thought of them the same way, judging by the smile she was clearly trying to fight. “Okay, okay, let's go in and choose where we want to sit. We want the best view!”

“Can we look at the chariots too?” Mickey asked as they headed towards the entrance. The guards were about to block them, but suddenly got an urge to sneeze, and when they looked back up, saw no one. In seconds, they decided no one had been there in the first place, as the foursome casually strolled along inside.

“I bet you could make an absolutely marvelous chariot, Mickey,” Minnie cooed, always at the ready to give Mickey a compliment whether he deserved it or not. 

“Maybe I could,” Mickey agreed after a chuckle, having climbed his way out of most of his modesty. “Not sure who I'd give it to, though. Wouldn't have much use of it for myself.”

As they waked down the long gray hallway, Donald glanced back at his nephew. “Say, Mickey, do you ever make anything for yourself? Or is always for other people?”

Mickey gave this some thought, but it didn't take long. “Gee, I always thought it was both. When I make stuff for other folks, it makes me happy. Seein' the look on people's faces... it's like I made those looks! Every time I bring down my hammer, I'm actually creating someone's smile!” He'd long since begun working on projects for Donald and Daisy, but wanted to keep them a surprise. He even had blueprints made up for Goofy, Agalma, and Gyro, and of course he never stopped working on prizes for his dear mermaids and nereids. The concept of making something that would solely benefit or please him had never crossed his mind. 

“Oooh, that's like poetry!” Minnie clung to Mickey's arm, squealing in lovey-dovey glee and heaping more praise upon him than he could handle. “You are the sweetest person alive!”

“Aw, shucks. You're the sweet one, Minnie,” Mickey began to blush, Daisy rolled her eyes, and even Donald hoped they would tone down a smidgen by the day of the actual race or it'd be impossible to concentrate on the entertainment. Thankfully they were all distracted when they passed the stables, and spotted the trio of mortals they adored. Agalma was happily brushing Little Helper's mane, earning sighs of contentment from the horse. Goofy was painting the cart, hoping that a few bright colors would help his friends spot him from the audience. Gyro was sitting on top of a wooden crate, jotting down notes on a scroll but then crossing them out and shaking his head.

Donald clicked his tongue and touched his chin, taking a look at the cart. “Doesn't look like much has changed since we last saw it. I guess Gyro still hasn't come up with anything that could help Goofy win the race.”

“You know what he needs?” Daisy walked around, getting behind Mickey and slapping a hand down on his shoulder. “A little inspiration! Get to it, mister poetry.”

Mickey blinked slowly at her, waiting for further explanation. “Huh? What am I supposed to do?”

“You know, inspire him!” Daisy kept pushing him, though she was careful not to go too hard for his damaged leg. “Be his muse! You're the perfect god for this situation.”

“Easy, Daisy, he has no idea what you're talking about,” Donald interrupted, yanking his wife backwards by the hand. He then cleared his throat, enjoying the miniature audience before him and the rare chance to seem intelligent. “All gods, even demi-gods like Daisy, have the power to influence mortals. Depending on what you rule over, you can make them do almost anything. Ares has the power to drive people to fight. Apollo gives them notes for music and lyrics for poetry. I bet if our little Minnie gave someone a nudge, she could encourage folks to fall in love.” At this Minnie stared down at her fingers, in disbelief that she could do such a thing. She was so intrigued and confused by this concept she'd yet to realize how dangerous Donald had come to revealing who she was. “And since you're a mastery of invention, you could give Gyro just what he's looking for, but convince him it's his own idea. All you have to do is give him one poke.” He held up his pointer finger, and Mickey coped the action.

“That's all?” Mickey repeated, looking at his finger, and then back at Gyro, who was regretting chewing on his ink quill – both because he'd destroyed the feather on the quill, and because now his beak was covered in ink. “I come up with the invention, and he'll want to make it?”

Daisy snapped her fingers. “Just like that. And hey, if you keep it up, maybe you'll get your name out there! People can start worshiping you properly like the rest of the gods!”

“Oooh, how exciting!” Minnie grabbed Mickey's hand, squeezing it to her chest. “You could get your own temple! And people would make offerings to you, asking for your help, and everyone would learn how wonderful you are! It's exactly what you deserve!” She was filled with cheer, wanting to turn back into her mortal form so she could run out into the streets and tell everyone to start worshiping the stupendous, marvelous, handsome and brilliant Hephaestus. But she had a feeling if she tried Daisy would be pushed to her limit and put Minnie on a leash. Nevertheless, now she was the one dragging Mickey towards Gyro. “Go ahead! I bet you'll come up with an amazing idea! It'll be you who wins the race instead of Goofy!”

Mickey stumbled as he was led forward, and Minnie let go once he stood right in front of the befuddled bird. She stepped back to watch, and Mickey lifted his finger. At that moment, Gyro laid the scroll down on his lap to take a break, and Mickey could see that in addition to chariot designs and failed ideas, there were drawings of the sea and underwater life, with concepts for round boats and a tube to let you breathe when you were below the ocean's waves. Agalma and Goofy peered over Gyro's shoulders to take a look at his concepts, with Agalma asking why people couldn't breathe underwater and Goofy thinking the helmet was a nifty idea. Mickey looked at all three of them, then at his finger, which apparently held far more power than he could have ever dreamt of.

Donald raised an eyebrow at how long this was taking. “Everything okay there, kiddo?”

“I...” Mickey bit his lower lip, taking a good long look at his surroundings – at the horse that mankind had domesticated, at the coliseum that mortals had built by working together, at the simple cart that was once an ingenious device hundreds of years ago. Mortals had never needed his help in building any of these things or making any of these achievements. “I just... I don't think I should.”

“But why?” Minnie was quickly in his face, worried that her encouragement had somehow hurt someone she cared about once more. “You could get the recognition you deserve!”

“Maybe it's what I deserve,” Mickey admitted, cupping Minnie's cheek to affectionately let her know everything was all right. “But it's not what I want. I don't need mortals constantly praying to me when they can do so many wonderful things all on their own. I shouldn't do their work for them.” Even as he said this Gyro's eyes were lighting up, asking Goofy to repeat himself. Goofy tapped on the idea for a suit for going underwater, but Gyro's mind was going in a different direction. He stood up so suddenly that he accidentally knocked both dogs over, getting into a fevered excitement about a helmet and other ways to protect Goofy during the race. Mickey smiled with genuine warmth to see all of them cheering and congratulating each other, even if they didn't entirely understand what had happened.

“Nah, they don't need my help,” Mickey commented as he put an arm across Minnie's shoulders. “Maybe they don't even need the help of all the other gods too. I don't mind that they don't know me. As long as I've got the folks who really care about me, that's all I need.” Minnie smiled at him, making his resolve even stronger. He was about lay a kiss upon her forehead – and then something occurred to him. He drew back, giving Minnie an odd look, before turning to Donald. “Say...why did you say Minnie had that kind of power?”

Donald had been proud of his distant relative in that moment, and as a result he was wildly thrown off by the inquiry. He'd been told time and time again by Daisy that Mickey didn't know Minnie's godly identity, and while he thought it was a bad idea he agreed not to tell him – on purpose, anyway. Yet apparently he'd let something big slip, and even with white feathers it was clear he was paling. “Uhhh. I say a lot of things! What did I say this time?” He glanced at Daisy for assistance but she was equally panicked, and Minnie was starting to shake.

All of these bizarre reactions weren't answering Mickey's questions – they were only making him more confused. “You said she could make folks fall in love. What kind of goddess could do that?” None of them said anything, unless you counted the stammering “Ummm”s and “Errr”s and “Oh nonononono”s, particularly under Daisy's breath. Minnie swallowed a hard lump in her throat, curling her hands against her heart, afraid to look Mickey in the eyes. “Mickey, I... there's... there's something I've been meaning to tell you, but-”

Never had Minnie been so grateful to hear the sound of a man in pain before. Everyone's heads, mortal and otherwise, whipped around to focus on what sounded like a man – several men – where being pummeled within an inch of their life. The collective group began to run for the source, which turned out to be the open raceway right in the middle of the coliseum. Several horses were running rampant, as their owners were engaged in fisticuffs. In the middle of it were brothers Bouncer and Burger Beagle with their cousin Bombshell – this particular beagle had a scruffy gray beard hiding massive fangs, and his dirty clothes were smeared in mud, grass stains, and pieces of twigs as if he made his home in the forest. Which, seeing as he refused to pay for a shelter, was likely.

“What in the world is goin' on here?” Goofy cried out, amazed to see two pests from home smack dab where he was competing. “You couldn't cause enough trouble back in the village, so you're doin' it here?”

Bouncer saw his enemies from the village and slammed his fists together, grinning manically. “If it ain't our old pals – Piggy and his dumb dame! And Ma wrote about that scrawny rubberneck, he's a perfect addition to the loser squad!” Gyro rubbed his neck, wondering why having a neck made of such a substance would be deemed an insult, while Agalma blew all the Beagles a wet raspberry. Goofy got in front of his companions, arms spread out to protect them in any way he could. The sight of this only made Bouncer laugh harder. “Oh don't you worry, goof! We're settling our score on the raceway! It'll be me versus you – but we wanted to keep it that way, and get rid of all the competition!”

“And Bombshell's gunna help us cheat!” Burger added on, already hungry from doing as little as possible. “And I'm... what am I doing again?”

“Meat-shield,” Bombshell grunted. He was a man of few words, and of many growls and spits.

“Right, that thing! Back home, no one's afraid of us anymore. But the Beagle name is still plenty strong here, so if we say they're out...” He cast a mischievous glare at one of the competitors who had dared enter the grounds, but one look at the trio of troublemakers and he quickly ran in the other direction. Burger laughed at the act of cowardice, but then sighed, rubbing his belly. “Man, all this intimidation and being a real jerk in general works up an appetite.”

“You leave all these innocent people out of this, Bouncer! This race is supposed to be for everyone!” Goofy shook a fist, hoping he wouldn't have to use it. “It ain't nothin' to do with what happened with us!”

“Ain't nothin' is a double negative,” Gyro reminded everyone, but everyone's curt frowns reminded him this was neither the time or the place. “Sorry.”

“Goofy's right,” Agalma huffed, crossing her arms. “If you want to settle things, keep it to yourself! Stop picking on everyone else! You have no reason to hurt these people!”

No, in a rational sense of things the Beagles didn't have any real reason to throw their punches. In fact if they had been allowed to think things through, they would have laid low and waited for a better moment to launch their revenge. But they hadn't been allowed to keep their minds calm, because there in the arena was Pete, keeping himself busy until all of his statues were ready. He knew Mortimer and Gladstone weren't dumb enough to slack off when he wasn't around, if not for the thrill of having Aphrodite return then for the very obvious threat of having their skulls pummeled.

The other four immortals were startled to see him there, with Donald regaining his senses and anger first. “Ares!” he growled, the threat of turning to his smoky form looming. He knew Pete's chosen name, but felt the degenerate didn't deserve one. “Leave them alone!”

Now it was Pete's turn to be startled, seeing the ragtag group of misfits plus the woman he wanted to see. “Well, well, well, just the lady I was lookin' for!” He slapped his hands clean of the affair, letting the Beagles decide for themselves if they wanted to continue brawling. “All right, the rest of you get a move on, she and I need a moment alone.”

Mickey quickly took Minnie's arm, and Daisy stood in front of her friend, poisonous nightshade beginning to dangle from her locks of hair. “If you think I'm leaving you with her for a second,” Daisy huffed, sticking her beak high in the air. “Then you've got less sense than Cerberus! And he's our dog!” A quick pause to Minnie. “Remind me to show you later, he's the cutest thing, he has three heads but each one-”

“God of war, Daisy,” Donald reminded his wife, and she stopped rambling. As for Minnie, any other moment and she would have been happy to see an unusual pet of the gods, but just like last time Pete and Mickey were in the same space, she forgot how to breathe and knew only panic.

Mickey took Minnie's trembling as fear, which it was, but not for the reason he assumed. He released Minnie and took several steps forward, his limp leg lagging, and Minnie made a frightened cry, wanting to keep him away from Pete but had lost the ability to speak. “Listen, Ares.” Mickey stood as tall as his body would allow, causing Pete to snort in amusement. “If Minnie wants to speak to you, she'll say so. But if she doesn't want to, you can't make her. We're just here to have a good time – us and the mortals! There's no need to fight or cause any trouble.”

“Fight? Me?” Maybe Donald could last a few rounds, but the idea of a fight between Pete and all these weaklings was enough to make him laugh, though he tried to muffle it in his palm. He swallowed it down, trying to keep himself calm. “As hard as it might be for any of you to believe, I ain't here for a fight. I need her help, and she's the only one who can do it!” He offered his hand, grinning wide in pride. “Come on, babe, and let's do something amazing!”

Mickey looked back at Minnie to see her response, and she was fervently shaking her head no, trying to walk backwards and drag Daisy with her. “No, no, no, I don't want to help you! I don't care what you need!” They had to leave, they had to get away from this place as soon as possible, they had to go before Pete ruined everything! “Let's just go back to – to Mickey's cave, or the beach, or anywhere!”

Daisy immediately understood Minnie's panic, and helped her turn around so they could make a proper escape. “We can come back for the race. We don't need to waste any time here.” Donald was at her side, ready to teleport them all away if need be.

Except Mickey wasn't moving. “Aw, c'mon guys, don't let him ruin our day!” He wanted to see more of the chariots, more of the fantastic things the mortals had created, and to find out what Gyro's brilliant move had been. “He can't bully us away from here! And we can't leave him to pick on the mortals, that's just not fair!” Pete was quietly pulling his hand back, trying to come up with a way to make Minnie willingly come to his side, but came up with nothing.

The ducks exchanged a worried glance, and Minnie's panic grew stronger with every second. She suddenly pushed Daisy off and ran to Mickey, grabbing his hands and began to desperately plead with him, near to tears. “Mickey, I don't want to stay here!” she begged, her grip so tight it began to feel painful. “Please, we have to leave! _Please!_ ” She'd go on her hands and knees if she needed to, and Mickey couldn't be teleported away unless he willingly wanted to go. All she could do was say the word “please” over and over, her body beginning to fall.

Mickey was greatly taken aback by these dramatics, and he tried to lift Minnie up, making gentle shushing noises. “Hey, hey, hey! It's okay!” What had Ares done to Minnie in order to make her break into pieces every time they met? As much as he wanted to learn and explore, these urges were never more important than Minnie's feelings. “Okay, we can go! Just calm down, it's all right...” He cupped Minnie's cheek, keeping her steady and smiling for her. “Like Daisy said, we'll just come back. Everything will be fine, I promise.” He kissed her forehead, but this wasn't a promise he could keep.

It only took a few seconds to teleport a group that large away – but it took even fewer for Pete to sigh in annoyance and say, “So just because she's the goddess of love, she has to love _everyone_? Even you?”

Fourteen words were all it took to stop the spell, and instead of anyone moving, the four friendly gods were cemented in place – the failed attempt at leaving causing a bizarre draft of wind around the mortals, making them wonder where it came from but forgetting it soon enough. Mickey's warm, kind touch was now cold and stone, the world so still he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He hadn't heard that. He couldn't have heard it. But Minnie wasn't wearing an expression of confusion or disbelief or even surprise – those were hot tears flowing strong down her face, her lips trembling.

“... What did...you say?” Mickey drew out the question as slowly as he could, turning his head back towards Pete, feeling color leave his face.

Daisy grabbed Donald by his robes and began to shake him. “Do something!”

“What am I supposed to do?! Unless he's dead, I can't make him shut up!”

Pete didn't understand all the theatrics going on, nor did he care, for the sound of his own voice was the most important thing of all. “I've been givin' it some thought, about why Aphrodite, _the_ goddess of love and beauty, would hang out with a bunch of rejects. But it makes sense when you use your brain – if she's the goddess of love, she has to love everyone! Even a god with a walking stick.” Saying it out loud made him snicker. “'Course, if you ask me, sounds more like pity than love, but maybe they're related?”

Mickey wanted to hear Minnie say it wasn't true, say that the god of war was the god of lies, that she wasn't Aphrodite – he wanted her to say anything. But Minnie wasn't saying a single word, having dropped to her knees, speechless and floored that all she'd done to hide her secret was undone by a man who didn't know she was keeping a secret in the first place. Mickey's heartbeat became louder as all the little coincidences came together – the odd recognition from his mermaids, her life upon Mount Olympus, and she'd been obviously hiding something from him. But it had been _this_? He opened his mouth to ask Donald and Daisy – and they weren't surprised either. Daisy had fled to Minnie's side, trying to hold her, refusing to meet Mickey's face. Donald was also avoiding eye contact, rubbing the back of his head and mumbling an apology under his breath.

That made it all worse. “You _knew_?” he asked breathlessly, his body staggering back. “You knew all this time who she was?! And you never told me? What... what was all this? Were you guys just _laughing_ behind my back the whole time?”

“Of course not!” Daisy hissed, holding Minnie close but Minnie felt more like a rag doll than a girl.

“I would've laughed,” Pete felt his commentary was necessary, and of course it only ignited Mickey's rage further.

“But you knew what Aphrodite did to me!” Mickey was close to screaming, both of his hands clutching his walking stick, his eyes feeling hot and wet. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry, but every ounce of his body was either enraged or in agony. Every sweet memory he had was now tainted, every happy time now in a new light. Had everything been for Aphrodite's amusement? Had he been some toy she could dangle around whenever she was bored? “You knew she told all the other gods we were getting married! Like – like it was some _big joke_ that we'd be together! The goddess of beauty with the ugliest god of all! And it's her fault Pete destroyed my projects!”

“It wasn't like that!” Daisy had to defend Minnie since she was refusing to defend herself, limp and lifeless in Daisy's arms. “She was just... She wasn't thinking...” But how did you defend an action that you knew had been foolish? Was that why Minnie was so silent, unmoving?

Donald made an attempt, walking forward with his hands open. “Mickey, I know it's a lot to take in, but she didn't mean any harm!”

“What about you?” Mickey snarled, wanting everyone to feel as horrible as he did. “You said you wanted to make things up to me! But you went along with her lie! How is that supposed to make up for all the years you abandoned me?” Mickey knew he wasn't being fair, but he was far too angry to rationalize it. “You never cared, none of you ever cared!” It hurt, everything hurt – a goddess who could have everything she ever wanted and she chose to pick on him, to make others play in her games, and he was never needed at all – no, they'd never needed him, no one ever needed him, not his mother, not his father, not his uncle, what had he done to deserve this? He didn't ask to be born so pathetic. “You never needed me, you never loved me!”

At this did Minnie finally snap her head up, her voice agonized and breaking. “That's not true!” she yelled, hands curling up in the dirt, her eyes so blurry with tears she almost couldn't see him. “I do love you! I love you more than anyone and anything in the world! I just wanted to make you happy!”

“Then why didn't you tell me?” Mickey slammed his walking stick hard on the ground, hating how he felt, hating that he didn't want to yell at her, hating that he still wanted to hold her, hating that he still wanted to kiss away her tears. “Why did you never tell me?!”

“Well look how you're reacting!” Daisy spat, the leaves falling off of her hair the only giveaway that she was inwardly as sad as her husband. “You hated Aphrodite before you even met her, how was she supposed to tell you? Would you have given her a chance if told you who she really was?”

Had Pete not been there to say what no one wanted to hear, Mickey would have listened to this sound bit of sense. Maybe he would have even calmed down and tried to understand everything himself. But Pete was there, and he felt himself the wisest of all in the coliseum. “Well, of course he would've,” He said casually, as if a teacher speaking to witless children. “She's the goddess of love. Everyone loves her, and she loves everyone. Shoot, why do you think Zeus gave her that title on day one? You can't help but love her.”

“ **WILL YOU SHUT YOUR INFERNAL MOUTH, YOU USELESS PILE OF ARMOR?!** ” Donald's body erupted into his monstrous form, rising up to clutch Pete by the shoulders, fingers digging in sharply. Even Pete, who believed himself to be braver and stronger than all, was initially terrified of this appearance, and so temporarily stopped talking.

Yet the damage had been done, and now Mickey was clutching his chest, genuinely unable to tell the truth. Had his love for her been real? Or had he only been won over by her beauty? Was that why, even now, he wanted to look at her and take her hands and stop her pain? Had any of it been real? Had his happiness been a lie from the start? He began to choke, his mind swirling, and he couldn't control any of his words anymore. “Did... Did you ever really... love me? Or did you just... _feel sorry_ for me?”

“I love you!” Minnie was howling now, almost feral in her grief, not even having enough strength to be angry at Pete. After all, for all of Pete's loud mouth antics, this was a day that had been coming. She had told herself over and over it'd be somewhere past the horizon, set in some place so far away she didn't have to think or plan about it. Was it because the very nature of love was being questioned that she felt her insides torn to shreds? Or for the very simple fact that the one she loved most was looking at her with fear and hate in his eyes? As if she was a monster?

“I've loved you from the moment I saw you!” Even then when he'd been so sad and angry, alone and never knowing his own worth. “Ever since we've met, I've wanted nothing more than to be with you! To make you happy... To make you see how wonderful you are...I wanted to take you out of the darkness.” And it was the fact he would very well return to his life of solitude and self-loathing that hurt the most. She'd taken him out into the light, but now there was a chance he would leave it and return to the shadows. The world was a beautiful, ever changing place and now he could leave it forever, and not get all the precious happiness he deserved.

“Please...don't go away...” Her sobs made speaking difficult, and she crawled on her hands and knees towards him, a trembling hand reaching out towards him. This miserable sight was enough to break Daisy's last defense, and she too began to cry, covering her mouth with her hands. Minnie didn't care how pathetic she looked to anyone, her hand still reaching out to Mickey. “Please believe me... I love you, Mickey.”

Mickey wanted to believe, wanted to take that hand and pretend he never heard anything. But the thought of her touch suddenly sent a hard stroke of fear throughout his body, and he drew back hard, remembering. “Donald – Donald said your touch could make anyone fall in love!”

Donald, being brought back into the travesty, suddenly poofed back into his normal form, and now that he was short again he fell from Pete's shoulders. After a humiliating thud and a smoothing down of robes and feathers, he was quick on his feet. “N-Now wait a minute, Mickey! I never – I mean, I was just – I was guessing! I don't know if she can!”

But it had been all too much for Mickey's mind and heart to take. He couldn't stand to look at any of them – the lies, the betrayal, the humiliation, it was more than love could conquer in one moment. “How can I believe that? How can I believe anything anymore?! I never...” he slammed his arm to his eyes, for the tears were coming and he didn't want them to see it. “I never should have left my cave, I never should have listened to you! I don't need this!”

“Mickey, _no!_ ” Minnie had her arms out, but couldn't find the strength in her legs, her very heart ripped out from her chest. “Please, Mickey! _I love you!_ ”

“ _I don't need you!_ ” Mickey slammed his walking stick down again, summoning the will to leave the world once and for all. “I-I-I don't need nobody, and _nobody needs me!_ ”

Then he was gone, leaving nothing behind but signs of where his tears had dropped. Of course he'd retreated back to his cave, and only there could he let loose the final screams of his despair, his strangled cries stopping the world of all the Axelias, and he let himself collapse on the floor. They didn't help him up. They weren't programmed to. They were never supposed to give him pity.

Yet years of suffering in silence had never told Mickey the truth – that pity was merely one word for sympathy, and that it was a natural feeling in all conscious beings, as is sadness and anger and love. But even if the Axelias had offered their hands, he would have rejected them, for now he held another feeling that was natural in many living souls – self-hatred. He'd been stupid for thinking he could ever be loved. He'd been foolish for believing he existed for anyone's purpose. He'd been born a reject and he would inevitably die the same way. She never could have loved him. He didn't deserve it.

He didn't deserve it, but even as he sobbed himself to sleep, he wanted her love.

As for Minnie, she fell to the floor as well, a tangled mess of heartache and misery. She wouldn't get to her feet, so Daisy took it upon herself to lift Minnie up into her arms and carry her. To where, she wasn't sure – perhaps the Underworld, or Goofy's village, or her temple. “Oh, Minnie,” Daisy sighed softly, knowing her words weren't reaching her friend but making the futile attempt anyway. “My foolish, silly girl...we'll find a way. We'll try to find a way back to him.” Yet even as she said this she wasn't sure it was possible. She forlornly looked to her husband, hoping he had a better answer, but Donald was in his own pain.

He'd only been trying to abide by Minnie's wishes, but perhaps if he said something earlier – maybe even a hint – he wanted to be a good uncle! He wanted to be better than Zeus! Was this his destiny as the god of death – to bring sadness to all who knew him? He finally met Daisy's eyes, opened his mouth, but then closed it. No, he had no answers for her or himself. Things couldn't be resolved with a few pretty words and fingers crossed. He approached the two, tenderly stroking Minnie's head. “You can stay at our place for a while...just don't eat the pomegranates.”

“Sooo, I'll catch you later, Aphrodite?” Oh yeah, Pete was still there – he'd been waiting until this odd theater had closed its curtains. But it looked like any plans would have to be on hold for another day – maybe tomorrow she'd get over...whatever had just happened. Who cared about losing a good toy? They were a dime a dozen. “Right! Big plans, babe, just you and me! You won't believe what a good idea it is!”

It's said that for some married couples, they can talk without using any sentences. This was true as Daisy glared at Donald who understood her wants right away – and, since her arms were full, he took it upon himself to take off his sandal and throw it at Pete's face. As he rubbed his sore nose, the three vanished. Pete grumbled, wondering but not particularly caring what made them so upset. Maybe it was time he checked up on his statues, and so he too left the arena.

By this time, the Beagles had lost the resolve to continue pointlessly fighting, and so after a few more threats towards Goofy and his friends, they departed. Goofy and Gyro began to help the fallen riders back up, but Agalma was standing by herself, staring off into the distance. Goofy only took notice when he saw her cheeks were wet, and he quickly forgot everything else in the world, jumping to her side. “Agalma! What's wrong?”

“... I don't know,” Agalma replied, curiously touching her face. Strange, she didn't feel sad, or in any pain. “But you're crying too.”

“I am?” Goofy asked, and after he blinked he realized he was. In fact, some of the riders were too – those that were married or those who had loved ones they cared for deeply. Each one was deeply puzzled, as were the newlyweds in the next town over, as were the young couple sneaking out to see each other in a dark forest, as were all who knew love and now knew tears.

Off in Aphrodite's temple, there was a sudden, terrible crack in one wall. Perhaps it could be repaired. Perhaps it couldn't. But no one would know for some time – any urges to pray at these temples were instantly snuffed out. In fact, they couldn't fathom using the temple ever again. Despite all of these strange events taking place, time went on for both mortals as gods, as it always would.

And for now, Mickey's cave was quiet.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to my awesome editors Drucilla and BlueShifted! Recently I realized they've been helping me out since last summer. Wow, a whole year already? Time flies when you work with fantastic people. Happy Anniversary!
> 
> Was anyone else missing the mermaids? I really do like writing these silly girls. As for the double negative line, I have to thank Lunammoon who pointed it out. (I hate to disappoint everyone but I am honestly not that clever XD Way to go, Luna!)

Tomorrow was the big day for the chariot race, but for certain immortal beings, it was the last thing on their minds. Ever since the “blow-up”, as Daisy had named it, Minnie had not eaten, slept, or even moved. None of these were entirely essential, since Minnie was a goddess, but it was a saddening display, with Minnie flat on her back and staring up at the sky, though it was clear from her eyes she wasn't truly staring at anything. The ducks had allowed her to lay on their bed and she hadn't budged an inch since, for all of Daisy's attempts. Daisy had tried ranting against Mickey, telling jokes, inviting souls to come and visit Minnie, but they didn't make her bat an eyelash.

On this day, Daisy's attempt was showing off all the tricks Cerberus knew – playing fetch with three heads was quite the challenge – and she was also going to ask Donald for assistance. Her husband had said he had business elsewhere, and his schedule couldn't be disrupted even for a dear friend. Daisy reluctantly understood and didn't ask any further – which was good for Donald since he had lied right to her face.

He was walking on the sandy shores of Mickey's island, hands knotted behind him and head ducked low. He knew if he'd told Daisy, she'd demand to come along with Minnie, and he didn't feel that would help. There were things that needed to be said from uncle to nephew, from friend to friend, and having them all crowd Mickey would make the conversation more difficult. Maybe with one person, Donald stood a chance. It'd help if he knew what to say, but as he walked on hot sand and kicked aside seashells, nothing came to mind. An apology was due, of course, but what then? How was he supposed to undo centuries of self-loathing in one good-mannered talk?

Donald scratched his head, trying to figure out if Mickey would even let him say anything. He'd come again and again if he had to, but what if that made things worse? He scratched and scratched – and then heard a different scratching sound. Confused, he lifted his head, and saw the source of the odd sound. Upon on the sand and nearing the jagged rocks was a small mermaid, her long wet hair strewn all over her bare back, her scaled tail flopping uselessly behind her. The girl – for it was a girl, too young to be considered a woman, even in years of fish – was crawling on her belly, using her hands to dig at the sand and ground to move inch by inch. Her sharp teeth were grinding together, and there were hints of tears in her eyes. Her face was pain in every definition – which finally kicked Donald into realizing she could use some help.

“H-Hey!” he called out, jogging toward the surprised mermaid and kneeling by her side. “What are you doing? That can't be pleasant.”

The mermaid blinked wide, trying to recall if she'd ever seen this man before, and she hadn't, and then millions of curious questions flooded her mind. But she visibly fought off her internal eternal chatterbox and resumed her crawl, grunting quietly. “Mickey's been crying, and I want to know why, and he won't come out, no he won't. We called and called and called but he won't come out and he cries and I want to know why. Crying means sadness and if Mickey is sad then I'm sad and I don't want to be sad and I don't want Mickey to be sad, no.”

Donald looked toward the cave, wondering if Mickey's wails had been that loud or his fish family had been that perceptive. “I'm...actually here about that too. Maybe we can help him out together.”

“Together?” she repeated, looking back at him, and then nodding. “Yes, because two is more than one, and two means twice as much help! My sisters didn't want to come, the land is painful, the land is dry. But Mickey's crying is much more painful. I'd rather be dry than have Mickey cry.”

“You said it, missy.” Donald rose back to his feet. “But I think if he saw how much pain you were putting yourself through, he'd be even sadder. Before I help him out, let me help you out.” He bent over and began trying to lift up the mermaid – and regretted it in seconds. The wistful tales of sailors were flat out lies, because this dainty looking maiden weighed more than a net full of freshly caught salmon. It also didn't help that she was taller than he was. If he was in his “other” form he could have lifted her with ease, but he suspected scaring her into hysteria wouldn't have made things easier. It took several attempts and many bites on his tongue to keep sailor swears from leaving his mouth, but eventually he had her on his back, and he managed to walk. “Criminy,” he muttered, now doubly grateful Daisy wasn't here to see this, “What does Mickey feed you? Cement?”

“He doesn't feed us. We feed him. We eat fish. He eats fish.”

“Never mind.” With the extra load on his back, it was much harder for Donald to navigate around the sharp rocks, and his legs became nicked several times. Instead of becoming angry, though, it gave him more to think about. Mickey's usual routine consisted of walking around these rocks, and he had his own disadvantage holding him back. If Mickey never complained about them, then Donald certainly had no right to. The girl's arms were looped around Donald's neck, and she smelled of the sea. She ran her tongue over her lips over and over, trying not to let questions override her original mission. It was perhaps the quietest any mermaid had ever been for this amount of time.

Within the cave, the Axelias were still hard at work with no change from their routine. Donald hoped this was a good sign, that if Mickey was also working then he had enough mental strength to continue living. The Axelias momentarily paused in their work to watch the incomers, and the mermaid would wave to them, making her weight wiggle on Donald's back. At this rate Donald began to think he'd need a walking stick too. He felt the warmth of the furnace, and his heart lifted – but once he saw the workshop, his heart sank back down.

Broken weaponry and jewelry were strewn on the floor, and apparently the Axelias hadn't been permitted to clean it up. Judging from the way they were cracked and snapped, this wasn't Ares' doing. It was the force of a small man throwing things down, or smacking them with his stick. Blueprints had been ripped into shreds, and the torches that lined the walls were down to their last flicker, no one bothering to replace them or reignite the dying ones. On the anvil where Mickey put all his current projects sat Minnie's tiara, its pristine shells twinkling in what little light there was. It had been left there since Pete invaded his cave, and Minnie had yet to pick it up. Finally, there was Mickey, who wasn't in bed but sitting on his bench, a hammer in his hand.

The days past hadn't been kind to Mickey – or more accurately, he hadn't been kind to himself. He clearly hadn't bathed, his fur matted in some places and soot sprinkling off his fingers and toes. His chest had begun to sink in – unlike Minnie, he did need to eat, and this was the result of not having a bite since he left Ippos enraged. His ribs were beginning to poke out, and his dirty clothes hung off, as if they too were giving up on everything. Shadows under his eyes proved he'd barely slept, or had been crying on and off. Perhaps both. He hadn't noticed the two of them entering, his dark eyes staying on the tiara.

Donald saw the tiara, and then the hammer, and then panic struck him. Was Mickey going to destroy that too? “No, don't!” Not registering the fact that Mickey's arms were limp and hadn't lifted the tool, Donald tried to run forward to stop what wasn't happening. Alas, he slipped on one of the ripped scrolls, and with the far too heavy burden on his back, he fell forward, splat, onto his stomach. He was fairly certain at least three sharp things were now embedded in his body. If Donald wasn't a deity himself, he'd swear some stronger force in the universe had it out for him. “Owww.”

As upset as Mickey was, even he couldn't ignore all that noise. He turned his head to look at the disruption, and first noticed Donald, and his anger brewed. “You!” But then he realized who was with him, and anger was met with confusion. “Damara! What are you doing here?”

“Crushing my lungs,” Donald answered, unable to get up.

“Mickey!” Damara the mermaid reached for him, but couldn't move any further. “You were crying and you wouldn't come out so I knew you were sad so I had to come here to stop your sadness!”

“I – I wasn't...” Of course had had been, but it was mortifying to admit it. “Get back to the water, you'll dry up here! Go back right now!”

“She just got here, she's not going anywhere!” Donald snapped, trying to use his elbows and arms to slightly lift himself up. “She came out all this way to see you, she's not going back until she's good and ready!” A pause. “Also, um, me.”

“Yeah, _you_ ,” Mickey growled, snatching up his walking stick to he could get up. “I thought I made it pretty darn clear that I never wanted to see you again! You humiliated me, you treated me like trash! All of you using me like some kind of game...” He slammed his walking stick down, missing Donald's beak by mere inches. “If you think I'm ever going to forgive you, you've got another thing coming!”

“Well, that works out, cause I didn't plan on asking for your forgiveness.”

Mickey opened his mouth to let another rant fly out, and then closed it. Had Donald actually said that? This wasn't how arguments were supposed to go. His lips kept moving without any actual speech, trying to understand what was going on. He finally came to a decision. “Axelia, come here and help Damara.”

“Yes-Mickey-Mickey-Mickey.” The nearest Axelia had been rolling up whatever scrolls were left, but now she abandoned this duty to walk over and lift Damara into her arms. The weight meant little to her, easily able to hold her close to her golden chest. Damara had never been this close to any of the other Axelias, and began to move her hands all over the mechanical servant, curious about how she felt.

Donald slowly managed to get up, picking shards of glass and metal from his aching body. “Couldn't be a designer of pillows, had to be a designer of sharp jewelry...”

“What did you mean?” Mickey cut him off, watching him warily. “You said you didn't plan on asking for my forgiveness.” That statement should have made him even more furious, but it was so absurd that he had to know the reasoning behind it.

Donald rubbed the back of his neck, allowing the pains of his body to slowly melt away. “I don't ask for things I know I don't have a chance of getting...Or deserving.” He sighed, forcing himself to meet Mickey's eyes. “I am sorry for not telling you who Minnie was. That was wrong, none of us should have gone through with it.”

“No, you shouldn't have!” Mickey jabbed a hard finger into Donald's chest. He would have preferred lobbing a fist, but doing so would have meant losing his balance what with his bad leg. “You all knew how I felt about Aphrodite, and didn't care! You know what she did to me! She told all of Mount Olympus that we were gettin' married!”

Donald merely nodded. “And that was wrong too.”

“And she had a million and one chances to tell me, but she didn't! She was never honest with me!”

“That was also wrong.”

“And – and – stop agreeing with me!” How were you supposed to vent out your rage to someone if they didn't argue back? It didn't work into his belief that the trio had been using him as merely a pawn for their amusement. But that had to be true, because Mickey wasn't worth anything else. “Stop acting like you care! None of you do!”

Donald calmly crossed his arms. “Then why am I here?”

“Because...” Mickey's eyes bounced around, trying to find an answer to that. “Because you feel sorry for me! Because you pity me!”

The elder god took a deep breath, knowing his next question was risky. “Mickey...what's so wrong with pity?”

Just as Donald had guessed, this singular question engulfed Mickey in sheer rage, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull. “What-” He gasped for air, and then forgoing his stick he clenched fistfuls of Donald's robe, even as his body began to sink. “What's wrong with – I won't have _anyone_ pity me!” He was snarling, trying to drag Donald down with him, his anger so white hot that his fingernails began to tear through Donald's clothes. “All I've done, I've done on my own! I've never needed anyone's help! I won't have anyone look down at me because of what I am!”

“Really?” Donald quirked an eyebrow, allowing his nephew to rip his perfectly good outfit. “Because you sure do seem to pity yourself a lot.”

There is a stage of anger that not many people know about because, to their fortune, they've never experienced it. It's such an intense, overblown sense of fury that it leaves one completely stupefied, making them still and silent. Donald was quick to take advantage of this moment, placing a flat hand between Mickey's ears and lightly pushing him back an inch. “I can understand all the hurt you must have felt after Hera threw you down here, but she didn't keep you from ever leaving the island. Yes, your leg isn't exactly like everyone else's out there, but you were the only one who kept pointing that out when you were in that outside world. Not everyone is going to like you, but most of the people you've met have! You're a good kid! But you're the one holding yourself back from everything and everyone!”

Mickey remembered how to breathe and did so rapidly. He had thought Donald came to beg Mickey to take Minnie back, maybe say _oooh they didn't meeean it, it had all just been a joooke_ , but here was talk of loving himself and the value he'd never seen. He wanted to reject it outright because it was so unprecedented. “No,” he managed to get out, trying to look for his dropped walking stick without letting go of Donald. “No, it's not like that. There are people who – who don't care, who stare, who think I'm a reject-”

“And who cares what those kind of people think?!” Donald grabbed Mickey's wrists, trying to make Mickey look at him. “There are people who love you for you who are, and I'm one of them! Minnie has nothing to do with how proud I am of you! You've made amazing things, and you've got a great big heart! I wouldn't want you to change – except to love yourself as much as your friends do!”

“I don't have friends, I don't have real friends!” Mickey tried to fight him off but couldn't, the humiliating tears touching his eyes again. He wasn't worthy of love or friendship or family, he was a used plaything of the gods, and Donald couldn't be right – because if Donald was right then he had spent years and years and years and YEARS of suffering for no reason. “Nobody needs me! _I don't need nobody and nobody needs me!_ ”

“I need you,” Damara said, raising her hand.

“As-As-As-Do-I,” Alexia added, and the nearest Axelia repeated it, and so did the next, and so did the next, until every Axelia in the entire cave had said so.

The bizarre echo chamber caused the men to stop wrestling and stare stupidly at the ladies. When it was quiet again, Damara took the chance to speak up. “If I didn't know Mickey, I would be very, very sad. Mickey makes us pretty things and he plays with us and makes us smile and loves us very much.”

“That's-” Mickey began, trying to rebuff her, but her innocent eyes held truth. “That's... different. You don't _need_ me.”

“Without-Mickey-Mickey-Mickey-I-Would-Not-Exist.” Axelia spoke without being addressed. “You-Ensure-My-Functions-Go-Go-Go-As-Normal.”

“That's different too!” Mickey said again, fire burning in his throat. “That's not what it means to need someone!”

Donald was losing his patience, and he grabbed Mickey by the shoulders, spinning him around until he was sitting on the bench. “Look, Mickey, in the great, grand, gigantic scheme of things? Nobody needs anybody!” he announced, releasing his bewildered nephew. “We're gods, we could live all by ourselves if we wanted! And so could the mortals! Mortals could do exactly what you've done, just shut themselves in their home and only provide for themselves. No, maybe none of us actually need each other – but we all _want_ to! We want to have families, find loved ones, make friends, because no one wants to be alone! And you, you've wrapped yourself up in all this hate and fear because you think everyone will reject you on sight, and you convinced yourself that it's okay! That you don't need anyone in order to live! And you're right, you don't – but you _want_ to!” If this at last wouldn't get through to his nephew, then he'd have to forgo words and dive into action. There was only one thing that wasn't destroyed. He suddenly grabbed the tiara with both hands, lifting it high in the air, ready for it to join its brethren down on the floor.

Except this time it was Mickey reaching and crying out, “No! Don't!” Which surprised himself. Donald looked at him, still holding the tiara up, and Mickey looked away, mumbling quietly. “I...I worked really hard on that.”

Donald lowered the tiara down. “I can see. It's very good craftsmanship. You should be very proud of yourself.”

“...I am,” Mickey said after a moment, not looking at Donald nor the gift in Donald's hands. It was dawning on Mickey that it was one of the few things that wasn't a smashed wreck. 

Donald stood by Mickey's side, and placed the tiara in Mickey's lap. “You don't have to forgive Minnie, or any of us. I can't make you do that, and I can't make you leave this place either. But you were happy out there, those smiles weren't lies. You like being out there. And that's what I really came here to say.” Mickey was hesitant to look up, and Donald tried to smile. “You can stay away from all of us, if that's what you really want. But you have no excuse not to enjoy the world. Shoot, if I let everyone's fear and rumors about me hold me back, I never would have discovered how much I love sailing. But I did it anyway, because I don't need everyone to like me.”

Mickey touched the tiara, letting one of the dangling seashells rest in his open, dirty palm. “...Was she... ever going to tell me?”

Here, Donald decided blunt honesty was best. “Probably not. Probably never. She meant well, but she didn't want to make you upset, she didn't want a fight...Which, let me tell you, is not the basis for any healthy relationship.”

At this, Mickey stared at him in confusion. “You and Daisy fight all the time. How is that healthy?”

“Fighting is normal, nephew. Because even the most lovey-dovey sappy couple has to disagree on something. It's how you better understand each other. If you only see the world from one point of view, you never get anywhere. It's how you're stuck here. Maybe most couples shouldn't argue as much as Daisy and I do – she always starts it anyway.” Another reason he was glad he hadn't brought her along, yet he still felt he was going to pay for that remark. “But if you want to be with Minnie again, you've both got to learn it's okay to be mad at each other, and it's okay to argue.” He then paused, waiting. “... _Do_ you want to be with Minnie again?”

Yes, he did, and no, he didn't. Minnie was sweet and kind – but she was headstrong and impulsive. She was cheerful and optimistic – but she was also cowardly and prideful. Her intentions meant well but she never gave thought to the consequences. “I don't know,” he finally decided, his voice pained. “What if she's just...what I'm just... She's the goddess of love. How can I trust how I feel about her?”

Donald regretted the nonsense he'd said about the power of Minnie's touch – there were still many mysteries about her, and he'd gone and added another. “Not everyone loves Minnie. Hera hates her guts. It's something you two have in common.” He got a sour look for that comparison. “Okay, so Hera isn't the most pleasant person to begin with, but it still counts. And no matter how much I care for Minnie, Daisy will always be the one I want to be with most of all.” He then scratched his head, trying to sort out the remaining puzzles. “I'll be honest...After all this time, we still don't know where she came from, or what she's capable of. Maybe she can make people love her. Maybe she can't. But one thing I can say with confidence is that love existed long before Minnie showed up. She gave me the drive to come find you, and it's that _action_ that makes me like her, not _what_ she is.”

Mickey's chest was still heavy with doubt, and he turned the tiara around in his hands. Could gods exist without a purpose? Mickey's purpose had been to be a proud son of Hera, but he'd failed that upon birth. He reflected upon his life before Minnie entered it, and he knew full well that had she not walked in, nothing would have changed. He never would have explored the world or found people he wanted to see. The battle of need versus want in his mind was no longer a bloody war, but an intense debate with each side having valuable merit. He didn't want to go back to his empty life. He was still angry with Minnie, deeply so, but he wanted to hear her reasons for it from her own lips. He wanted to have a single moment of honesty. Only then, maybe then, could he decide if what he felt for her was actual love.

But any further family talks were put on pause as Damara began to quietly whine in pain. Mickey blinked rapidly, and then flailed a hand towards her. “She's been out too long! Her scales are drying up, she needs to go back to the sea, right now!” 

Despite all the agony Damara had caused him, Donald began to walk over and open his arms. Mickey needed some alone time to digest all he'd learned – and Donald needed to restore some of his pride. Surely round two would be easier. “I've got this, kiddo. You think about what I said, all right?” Now the smile he gave Mickey was a genuine one, born not of blood and family, but of pride and happiness. No matter what Minnie had done or said, Donald loved his nephew, and wanted him to be happy. He only didn't say it because he wasn't sure if the boy would believe him. He'd have to save that for a later day, he supposed.

With a heavy grunt already full of regret, Donald had Damara on his back and began to waddle out. Damara waved goodbye. “Feel better, Mickey! I'll come back if you don't! I need you very much, we all do, and we love, love, love Mickey! If you forget, we'll tell you again! We forget things all the time so that's okay!”

Mickey watched them leave, and then placed the tiara back on the anvil. He felt how dirty he was, how hungry and tired he was, and maybe even the long years of his life weighed heavily upon him. Love and trust were supposed to go hand in hand with each other. Could they have loved each other when she wasn't being honest with him?

_I don't need nobody, and nobody needs me.  
I don't need nobody, and nobody needs me.  
I don't need nobody - _

Funny how the most random of memories can pop up in the deepest of thoughts.

_“Ain't nothin' is a double negative,” Gyro reminded everyone._

A double negative meant a positive. Therefore, “I don't need nobody” would translate into “I do need someone.”

If that was wrong – if somehow he'd known how wrong his life was all along – then perhaps the second part was true as well. Another memory came to him, of Minnie openly weeping on the boat, of her kissing his leg and telling him there was nothing wrong with it, of her desperation to be understood.

_“Don't you understand, Mickey? I want to make you happy! I want to make you the happiest man alive! I need you to be happy, because of how happy you've made me!”_

The tears came back, just when he thought he'd run out of them.

_“I need you!”_

“I think I need you too,” Mickey whispered to the darkness.

He'd order Axelia to help clean up the mess soon, and maybe take a bath afterward. But neither chore would help, for in less than an hour, another visitor would make them pointless.

~*~

In another bid to restore Minnie's happiness, Daisy had literally dragged her friend out from the Underworld and into the outside, though the most Minnie would allow was a familiar grassy field, perhaps even the same one where they'd first met. Despite Minnie being light as a feather, Daisy didn't want to pull around a rag doll all day. She plopped onto the grass, still holding Minnie's wrist. “Minnie, I love you, but you're really trying my patience. Move your cutie booty, patootie!”

Minnie finally spoke, though her eyes remained on the bright blue sky. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you love me? Or did I make you love me?”

Daisy mentally noted Pete needed a swift kick between the thighs, among other things. “You're not still thinking about that, are you? It's not true! You can't make people fall in love with you, no matter how beautiful you are!”

“You don't know that.” Every word dripped with dread, Minnie's hands laying on her chest like a somber corpse awaiting burial. “Maybe none of you ever liked me, and I forced it all. Maybe Mickey never wanted to be with me. Maybe Goofy never wanted to be my friend. Maybe you only tolerate me because of I'm the goddess of love.” If she didn't have positive answers, then she could only focus on negative ones. She hadn't gotten anything right – trying to heal Goofy's heart, keeping all those secrets from Mickey, the impromptu marriage promise on Mount Olympus, and now her own existence was a burden on everyone around her. How could she trust anyone's smile again? Everything could have been a lie, and it was all her fault for being born.

Daisy ran an exhausted hand through her hair, as wisps from frustrated weeds floated about. “An existential crisis on top of being dumped. If you were a mortal, you'd have gone gray from head to toe due to all this stress.” How Daisy was supposed to cure either one was an enigma. “Minnie, I promise you, I like you because of who you are, not what you are.”

“You can't prove that,” Minnie said dully.

“Well – well you can't prove I don't!” This was going to go around in circles, she could just tell. “Not everyone loves you right away! Hera, remember Hera? And it took time for Mickey to warm up to you, he didn't slobber all over you right away! You're a good girl, you earned his love! You earned mine, and Donald's and Goofy's! And you made us all happier! And you didn't do it by standing around and looking pretty!” At this, Minnie's eyes – now a pale color – began to slide over. “You acted! You spoke! The things you say and the things you do make people like you! Forget Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty – I love Minnie, plain old Minnie, the Minnie who hugs everyone too tight and asks a million questions and gives me way too much detail on how she kisses her boyfriend.”

Even though Minnie wanted to believe, uncertainty clung to her. Without proof, how could she be absolutely positive? She wanted to make her loved ones happy, but if that love was forced, was it real happiness? What if Mickey was right – that in the end, everyone had been a pawn to her unknown whims? The idea of making her dear ones into willing slaves made her groan, and she flopped an arm over her eyes. “How can you be sure?” Maybe it'd have been better if she never existed, or at least never met any of them. Perhaps they'd still be sad, but at least it'd have been of their own choosing. “Everyone deserves free will...and I could be taking it away. I can't ever see Mickey again, if I'm going to make him my...” She didn't even want to finish that sentence. Puppet? Toy? It all made her want to cry.

Daisy slammed her hand on the ground over and over, mostly to vent out her anger. “Minnie, I know it from the bottom of my heart! Everyone likes you because you're you, and I can't think of a single person who would say otherwise!”

As is the way of tempting fate, Pete poofed into existence by their side, waving cheerfully as if all he'd done was knock on a neighbor's door. “Hiya, Aphrodite!”

“...With the obvious exception,” Daisy finished, glaring hard at the unwanted guest. The weeds turned into spiked vines, curling around her head. “Haven't you caused enough trouble already? Get lost!”

Pete ignored her, grabbing Minnie's hand and hoisting her up in the air. Minnie didn't fight it, but since Daisy was still holding onto Minnie's wrist, she was unceremoniously lifted as well, yelped, and then fell with an unflattering THUD. Daisy thought to give life to her earlier idea, but her aching foot soon discovered Pete wore armor everywhere. Pete paid no attention to the attempted assault on his lower half, holding the disinterested goddess to his face. “Thought I'd give you some thinking time, but a pretty girl like you doesn't have much to think about, right? So now I can finally show you my master plan!”

“Whatever,” said Minnie, devoid of all energy and care.

“She's not going anywhere with you!” Daisy stood up, fists clenched. “Minnie, listen to me, you do not have to go with him if you don't want to!”

“Whatever,” Minnie said again, with the same lifeless inflection.

“See? She didn't say no.” Pete smugly grinned, glad there were less nuisances to get in his way this time.

Daisy tried to charge Pete, maybe punch him or push him over, but he merely held up one hand and she couldn't get past it, no matter how hard she pushed. It took her several tries to give up, but when she did she spat at him. “You only get your way because you're a big bully! One of these days, you're going to meet an even bigger bully, and they'll give you what for!”

The very idea of it made Pete laugh so hard he almost dropped Minnie, not that she cared. At this point she could have been dropped down a ravine and not said a word. “That'll be the day! You just go back to the Underworld, little lady...They'll need the help. It's about to get really crowded!” With a victorious cackle, he vanished with Minnie in tow.

Daisy huffed and stomped, but the words sunk in quickly. About to get really crowded? “Oooh, I do _not_ like the sound of that....”

Daisy had every right to be concerned, unlike Minnie who still didn't care when she was popped back up on Mount Olympus. As Pete proudly walked through the enchanted mountain, gods, goddesses and their chosen visitors gasped with delight to see the gorgeous Aphrodite, who was beautiful even when she was dripping with self-loathing. Minnie didn't know where she was being taken or why, but could not find the strength to give it any major thought. If she had been treating everyone like pawns, why not be a pawn herself? Maybe it was what she deserved.

Pete only put her down when they reached his room, where a big, red curtain was on display. He cleared his throat, having prepared a miniature speech. “Since the dawn of time, man has always known war. But the problem is, war always ends. One side always surrenders or is defeated. And then you have to wait so long for another war to start up. You have to wait for kids to become adults, for people to get greedy and jealous and full of hate, and let me tell you, there are some mortals who have never even seen war! Can you believe it?”

Minnie just blinked, and it was impossible to know if she was actually listening or was back in a loop of trying to figure out if she'd ever make Mickey happy or “tricked” him into it. Pete decided to skip a few paragraphs. “Well, uh, anyway, you've given me the perfect solution to all my problems! With your help, I'll finally have my forever war! Show her, fellas!”

On cue, Gladstone and Mortimer pulled apart the curtain – taking their time to wave to Minnie, tell her how much they missed her, how gorgeous she looked today, before Pete gave them a threatening growl – to reveal the hundreds and hundreds of rather ugly statues they'd worked on. They weren't things one would proudly show off in a museum, and there was no heart or love to any of them, unlike Goofy's designs. It was row after row of mostly male mortals, with blank faces and misshapen appendages. The sight was so bizarre it drew Minnie out of her shell with a quizzical head-tilt and a quiet “Huh?”

Pete arrogantly took his time walking to what he considered masterpieces. “I found out what you could do – the magical gift of life! I always knew you were something special, and now you can finally _do_ something special!” He slapped the closest statue on the back - “You can bring all of these to life!” - causing its neck to crack and the head to fall off. “...Maybe not this one. We'll redo it.”

“'We', he says,” Mortimer muttered under his breath.

Minnie began to blink faster, finally waking up from a long nightmare, only to enter a different one. “What? How did you...” Find out, she was going to ask, but something worse was on the horizon. “Wait... are you saying you want me to make these things fight?” Her eyes tried to count how many she saw and couldn't. A cold fear ran through her blood.

“No, of course not!” Pete answered, giving Minnie three seconds of relief before continuing, “We're going to send them to the mortal plane so they can fight everyone down there! Think of it!” He inhaled happily, gesturing all around with great big arms. “A sudden invasion all across the lands! Nations will blame other nations for sending the attacks! And once we run out of statue people, we can just make more and keep it going! It never has to stop!” His eyes practically glittered at the thought, a choir of endless screams and clashing of weapons. “It'll go on forever! It'll-”

“That's _disgusting!_ ” Minnie suddenly shrieked, the color having returned to her face in the worst way. She was covering her mouth with her hands, lest she gag from the imagery of so many slaughtered innocents. “You- you - you want me to create life, just to kill other people? What's _wrong_ with you?!”

Upon hearing Minnie's disapproval, Gladstone and Mortimer were quick to back away and point at Pete with the singular shout, “All his idea!”

In all of Pete's plans and preparations, not once had the idea of her rejecting his concept ever came up. He was at a loss for words, not that he knew too many to begin with. “But...But it's a great idea! And you can finally do something around here! You can help me, and isn't that the best part? Weren't you yammering on about how bored you were, or something?”

“Since when do you ever pay attention to anything I say?” There came that familiar anger, only hotter now, and the shakes that came with it that defied all sense. The other gods, goddesses and creatures on the mountain became seized with fear, having forgotten the tremors that rattled their bones. It was even worse than before, with pillars tumbling over and seated deities falling out of their thrones. There was no telling when it would stop, and with every passing second they seemed to grow worse. Only Pete and Minnie appeared to be oblivious to the activity, too far gone in their own anger and frustration. Gladstone and Mortimer clung to each other in fright, also having forgotten that such convulsions could occur. No one had ever gotten around to figuring out what that was all about, and even now terrified heads looked around in a desperate attempt to find the source. “If you honestly thought I'd help you hurt defenseless people, you're out of your mind!”

Pete rolled his eyes, sighing through his nostrils. “Okay, okay, I get it. You're the goddess of love, so you love mortals. Sure, sure. It's not like I'd kill all of them, just, you know, 99%. Give or take one percent.” He waved a hand, trying to even out the numbers. “So let's take that pretty little tail of yours over here and-” He made a grab for her, but Minnie slapped his hand away.

“Don't you ever touch me again!” Minnie snapped, the shakes intensifying. Her eyes were red now, with hints of orange, something mystifying flickering within. “I'm not going to help you commit murder just because you're bored! People are not playthings for your amusement! They don't exist just to do whatever you want! You don't get to decide their deaths just because you're bigger and stronger! And you two!” She pointed at the assistants, making them jump as if she'd suddenly zap them into dust. “You went along with this? Do you hate mortals that much? Don't they worship you and ask for your help?”

Mortimer swallowed, his voice small. “Well, uh, we wanted to see you, babe, and, uh...”

“Pete's very good at the hitting thing,” Gladstone added, twiddling his thumbs. The excuses sounded ridiculous and they knew it. Maybe there was a nugget of shame in them after all.

Pete was getting impatient. “The mortals owe us, after all we've done for them!”

“What have you done for them?” Minnie shot back, hands on her hips. “Zeus saved them once, a millennia ago! And since then you pick and choose who to help, if you want to help! Mortals are capable of doing amazing things all on their own, they don't need us! They owe us nothing! We have no right to decide their lives!”

“I have every right!” Pete loomed over Minnie. He didn't want to hurt her, but if she was going to curtail to his opinion – she wasn't giving him much of a choice. “I am the God of War! I can do whatever I want, to anyone I want! That includes you!”

But much to his additional aggravation, Minnie didn't back down or show a trace of fear. No, she met him head on, her eyes were so inflamed Pete felt he could melt under her stare. “No, you can't. You can't make me use my powers on them. No matter how much you hurt me, I'd rather take all the pain in the world than bring this to the mortals! And if you can't bully someone, you're powerless.” She laid the final insult by turning her back towards him. “I may not like who I am...But as long as I'm not like you, I can never be the worst person alive.” And she was gone, along with the tremors.

Pete stared at where she used to be, grinding his teeth so fast and hard it could be heard all across Olympus. Within seconds, he roared like a caged animal, whipping around to punch a statue so hard its shattered remains smacked into other statues, destroying them as well. He howled in his anger, stomping on the floor and beating on walls, not unlike a toddler when denied snack time. In fact, the display was so overwhelmingly childish that Mortimer and Gladstone felt safe watching him, instead of running away.

“Well, that was a bust,” Mortimer quipped, summoning a fresh goblet of wine. “Get it? Bust? Cause we made statues?”

“Leave the word play to me, if you will.” Though Gladstone helped himself to a second goblet. “I do hope this means I didn't sweat for nothing.”

“I do kind of feel like a heel,” Mortimer admitted after a second sip. “I mean, mortals make some really fantastic drinks, and they always know how to throw a good party. They're pretty creative down there. I heard one of them is working on a thing called a 'margarita', and it sounds fantastic.”

“You may be right, old friend. Who would worship me if we didn't have mortals?” Gladstone admired his reflection in the drink. “I might forget how wonderful I am without them. And how am I supposed to know my poetry is perfect if they don't write bad ones for me to compare them to? Our dear Aphrodite may be as wise as she is pretty...I wonder where she headed off to.”

Mortimer shrugged. “Probably back to her husband. Heppy-something.”

And that was all it took for Pete to stop his temper tantrum. He stopped in place, turning his dark eyes toward Mortimer in a sense of revelation. Only now did Pete accept that Minnie perhaps felt genuine love for someone, but this wasn't a good thing. Ever so slowly he pulled out his newest sword, the one that had been forged as a mere side project. One with a small red stain from the only god that could bleed. “I can make anyone do anything,” he murmured darkly, reminding Mortimer and Gladstone that they should be afraid of him.

“I _can_ make _anyone_ do _anything_!”

~*~

Mickey finished his bath, having nearly forgotten what it was like to have clean fur. His head was still muddled with thoughts about the future and what he wanted in it, but at least he could imagine one instead of staying in a singular rut. He sniffed his robes – ugh, they could use a wash, but that could wait until later. He put on his usual clothes and hobbled back to his workshop – and there stood Pete, snorting out his nose like a charging bull. 

“Uh-oh.” Mickey backed up, his back hitting a wall. “Look, didn't we already clear this up? I had no idea Minnie was Aphrodite until you told me! I didn't mean to make you look bad!”

“Shut your yap.” Pete began to storm over, one slow foot at a time. “There's a lot of things I don't get about Aphrodite...but she loves everyone, and that includes scrawny, reject gods like you! You're coming with me!”

Mickey didn't have an inkling of what Pete really wanted, but you didn't have to be a genius like Gyro to know that face meant nothing good. Mickey tried to slide along the wall. “Leave me out of this! I'm not going anywhere with you! Just you try it, I'll make myself vanish! I can go anywhere in the world!”

“YOU'RE COMING WITH ME!” Pete bellowed, but as he was about to make a grab for Mickey, someone grabbed him – Axelia, with her golden arms tight around his muscles.

“You-Will-Not-Harm-Harm-Harm-Mickey,” Axelia stated in her cold voice.

“OUT OF MY WAY!” Pete raised his arm and smashed Axelia into the stone wall, her back exploding open in a hot mess of wires and gears, crackling with electricity. She fell off of him, her head tilting to one side, mouth open but saying nothing.

“ _Axelia!_ ” Mickey screamed, trying to make a mad dash for her and falling to his knees at her side. “Axelia, hang on! I-I can fix you! I know I can!” Axelia's fingers twitched in all directions, her mouth repeating his name but making no sound. Mickey cupped her head in his lap, holding onto her with all the protection he could. “D-Don't try anything, it'll wear you out! I'll fix you up, I promise!”

Pete lifted his eyes from this scene to the other Axelias in the room, all of them staring right back at him, but they didn't move. He sneered, rubbing his hands together at the obvious opportunity. “I thought you were gunna teleport all over, runt! Or do these tin cans mean something to you?” He seized the arm of the nearest Axelia, tearing it from her shoulder as easily as she was made of paper.

“ _Stop it!_ ” Mickey cried out, trying to reach for his friend but couldn't. The wounded Axelia began to fall from lack of balance, and two others came over to catch her. “You're hurting them!” Even as Mickey said this, he knew it wasn't true, they couldn't feel anything, and yet... “They never did anything to you, leave them alone!”

Pete discarded the destroyed arm over his shoulder. “Either you come with me or I'll smash each of these girls until they're nothing but gears! They'll make great punching bags!”

It wasn't much of a choice, not really, not when he couldn't bear the thought of any other Axelias getting injured for his sake. Even as the one in his lap appeared to speak “no-no-no” he couldn't disobey. He slowly put her head back down on the ground. “I'll come back, and I'll fix you both, everything's going to be okay.” Was he trying to convince them or himself? He stroked her head, and then used his walking stick to get up – but Pete didn't let him get all the way up, snatching him and vanishing with such force that the tiara on the anvil was pushed over and fell onto the ground, smashing three pristine white shells.

All of the Axelias stopped doing their work, meeting up within the workshop. They weren't programmed for this situation. They didn't know what to do.

“Mickey-Mickey-Mickey.”  
“Mickey-Mickey-Mickey.”  
“Mickey-Mickey-Mickey.”

On and on they said his name, an endless refrain of panic and grief, until each voice wore out.

“Mickey-Mickey-Mickey.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to my fantastic editors Drucilla and Blueshifted! They worked extra hard on this last batch, so give 'em some praise.
> 
> While many things changed about this story once it came into development, the climax never did, as it was something I had envisioned for years and I'm glad it's finally out there. But hang on, it's not QUITE done yet - don't forget to read the epilogue!

Goofy thought he'd be far more nervous than he actually was when the big day arrived, but perhaps _knowing_ he was going to be nervous made him less anxious about the whole thing. Yesterday Gyro had been struck by inspiration and had vanished from sight in order to work on something. Since then, Goofy and Agalma hadn't seen him and now it was mere minutes before Goofy would be called to join the others out in the arena. At the moment, he was brushing Little Helper's mane, figuring that his partner should look his best. Agalma was putting a last minute paint job on the cart, mostly as an excuse to practice writing. It was rather impressive that she spelled “Pygmalion” right on the first try, and she was so proud of this feat that now she was writing it all over the cart.

As she was going for Pygmalion #5, Goofy glanced over at her and spoke gently. “Say, Agalma?”

She paused and looked over, the “Py” trailing downward. “Yes, Goofy?”

“You remember why I agreed to the race in the first place?”

She nodded. “We need the money, because of me.”

“Yeah, but...” He hesitated for half a moment, thumbing the brush. “I was thinkin' – well, wonderin', if you'd be all right with it... Maybe we use it in a different way. After we split our fair shares with Gyro and all.”

Intrigued, Agalma stood up tall, not caring that the paint brush was dripping black on her white robes. “What do you mean?”

Goofy gulped – funny, saying this was making him more shaky than the dangerous race that was to come – and spoke as slowly as he could, not wanting his dialect to ruin what he was about to say. “See, uh, I was thinkin' long and hard about this, about my life and yours. I never wanted to leave my home town, 'cause it was like leaving Millie behind... and for you, there's still so much of the world you don't even know about. But maybe things shouldn't stay that way. Maybe... if I saw more of the world, I could make even better statues, and be a better fella. And you could... you could find out more about what you like, and what you don't like, and everything else you can be.” Ignoring the skittish trembling going through his body, he held up Agalma's hand, getting paint on his gloves. “And I'd really like to see the kind of person you are. I want to know more about you, Agalma...” He began to lift his eyes to meet hers. “...If that's okay with you.”

Agalma couldn't understand why Goofy was looking like he was going to fall apart at the seams. Everything he said sounded wonderful. She rested her own cheek in her hand, curious. “You know, I'm starting to think I don't know everything about you either, Goofy. Maybe I can learn more about you too.”

Goofy's eyes widened, and he clicked his heels together in delight. “You mean it? You really wanna travel the world with me? All over and back around? You and me?”

“Yes, I think I'd like that very much.” Agala smiled warmly, shaking Goofy's hand up and down to emphasize her agreement. “There's a lot of things we can both learn for the first time! I can feel smart, you can feel smart, and we can make each other happy.” What lay ahead out in the world out there? Those mystical things called oceans? Those magical places called forests? New languages, new clothes, new experiences, and new sides of herself to discover. Who wouldn't want to take that chance? And with Goofy at her side, she'd have every question answered. He'd keep her safe, he'd keep her fed, and he'd keep her happy. It wouldn't even be difficult, because when he was happy, so was she. Yet any further daydreams were put on hold as she understood that none of this was a guarantee. “Oh,” she said, troubled. “But if you don't win the race, does that mean we can't do it?”

It was a very real possibility, and Goofy almost answered her that yes, there was a good chance this dream would stay a fantasy. But as he looked at their hands, fingers intertwined and warm, an unusual feeling was coursing through his body, one that he was so unfamiliar with that it almost scared him. He was confident in himself. “I _will_ win,” he said in a near whisper, but when he said it again, it was loud and hard. “I'm gunna win! I am absolutely, positively, definitely gunna win!” He pulled in Agalma's hand, surprising her with his strength. “I am, I am, I am! Little Helper and me, we'll do whatever it takes! And with all of our friends watching me, there's no way I can lose! With Minnie, Daisy, Mickey, Donald, Gyro, and... and... and _you_... with you watching me-” A gulp before continuing, yet never faltering. “With you watching me, I know I'll win!”

Normally Agalma would've asked how her watching him affected the race in any way, but the sincerity of his words, the intensity of his gaze, and the tight squeeze of his hand was making her body react in a truly bizarre way. He'd never looked at her that way, never spoke of her this way – he'd never been so courageous. Heat flooded her cheeks, and Agalma lost her breath. For once, it was her that stumbled for proper words. “G...G..Goofy, I th-think there's something wrong with me!”

“Huh?” His bravado faltered, replaced with intense concern. “W-whaddya mean, what is it?”

“Something's going on with my heart!” Agalma exclaimed with worry, grabbing Goofy's hand and pushing it into her chest – so he could feel her rapid heartbeat - she'd ask at a later time why this made him go redder than an apple. “It's never gone that fast before! What does that mean? Is it bad?”

“Uh,” Goofy said, unable to offer any better explanation. “Uhhh.”

“SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME I MADE IT IN TIME!” a familiar voice shouted nearby, heading right towards the blushing buffoons. Gyro was carrying a large, full sack on his shoulder, and judging from how out of breath he was, he'd been running to find Goofy as fast as possible. That or he was out of shape. Both were plausible. “Oh, Goofy, thank goodness! I was so worried I'd miss you, and just when I finished my inventions! You...” he trailed off, only now noticing where Goofy's hand was on Agalma's body. He glanced at both dogs back and forth. “...Did I interrupt something?”

Goofy jumped a foot, whipping his hand back, and haphazardly struggled for a proper explanation of what Gyro ran into, although not even the best linguist could have understood him through all the stuttering and stammering. Agalma continuously rubbed her chest, still confused as to why Goofy had made her heart flutter. Gyro decided it was best he not inquire. “Oookay! Anyway, Goofy! The other day, when you pointed out my possible design for an underwater helmet, I knew what to do! All this time I've been thinking of how to improve the chariot, but never how to help _you_ , Goofy, my friend!” He plopped the sack on the floor and began to dig through it. “Since you're my friend, and you're going up against notorious cheaters, I want to keep you safe! So I came up with these safety shields!”

First was a helmet, but not the glorified plated version a soldier wore into battle. This one was circular, better fitted for Goofy's dome, with a strap under the chin to keep it in place. Then came pads to stuff under Goofy's robes right on top of his shoulders, comfortable but also firm, though they did make him look slightly silly. Finally there were soft pads stuffed with cloth, made to cover Goofy's elbows and knees. Once everything had been placed on, Gyro slapped his hands together, pleased that it had all fit to a T. “There! With all of these, you should be as safe as a babe in their mother's womb!”

Goofy moved his arms around, feeling odd under the additional cloth and pads, but not entirely chafed. He wasn't sure how it was going to keep him safe, but if Gyro said it would, then it had to be true. Goofy nodded once, and then offered a hand to his friend. “Thanks a whole bunch, Gyro.”

Gyro smiled, and shook Goofy's hand, beaming with delight. “I know you can do this, Goofy! You're a good man, the best kind of man! And no matter what the Beagles pull, you're going to do your best! We'll be cheering for you every step of the way! Right, Agalma?”

She had no time to agree, for the loud sound of drums began to beat their way inside the halls. “That's the startin' signal!” Goofy announced, and then rushed to climb into the cart. “Time for me to go! I'll see you both after the... No, after I win this race! Heigh-ho, Little Helper!” With a crack of the reins, Little Helper, whinnied in victory, galloping ahead into the open sunlight. Yes, he was going to win! He had to win! There was a new future to grasp – one without nights of tears and agonizing loneliness. Goofy needed to take this chance, and he wouldn't take it alone. He had friends who loved him for who he was, and if such fantastic people believed in him, then surely he was worth something! Goofy was going to make them all proud – and make himself proud too.

Agalma exhaled all the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. “He's...really amazing.” Her voice was the quietest she'd ever used. Gyro didn't even know she was capable of sounding so soft.

Holding back an amused laugh, Gyro grabbed Agalma by the hand. “Yes, he is! So let's grab our seats before he shows off how amazing he is!”

Within the arena, the racers began to assemble at the starting line. To Goofy's surprise, Bouncer hadn't scared off every single participant. Three others had managed to join the line – a red rooster who was already kicking his feet in eager anticipation, a green parrot that was blowing kisses to pretty girls in the stadium, and a tired black horse who was warily eyeing the competition. The trio watched Goofy ride in, all of them with baffled expressions in response to Goofy's strange attire. Goofy waved to them in a friendly air, wanting to wish respect unto his opponents, and they waved back – then winced as Bouncer rode up, his gray steed huffing and snorting in every direction. Right away, he let his opinion on Gyro's safety devices be known. “HAHAHAHAHAHA! What kind of stupid get up are you in, goof? Did you finally decide to dress as dumb as you are?”

Goofy knew that no response would satisfy Bouncer or make him shut up, so he opted not to. Instead he gripped the reins, eyes staring right ahead. Bouncer wasn't used to being ignored, so he spat a wad of leftover breakfast at Goofy's cart. “I'm talkin' to you, piggy!”

“I ain't here to talk.” Goofy wouldn't turn towards Bouncer, and even had the audacity to grin. “I'm here to win.”

The rooster and parrot noisily enjoyed the comeback, high-fiving each other and hooting, while the horse saluted in pride. Bouncer growled, kicking a small box in his cart – Bombshell Beagle's tricks. “I'm going to enjoy knocking out all of those teeth, goof. Not only am I going to win, but I'll make you wish you were never born!” He would make Goofy fear him again, and get back on top of the food chain. Then maybe Ma would shut up and things could go back to normal. If he lost – which was impossible – she'd make life miserable for him. Or... more miserable? Was any part of his life legitimately enjoyable right now?

The drums began to beat again, and once they stopped, the race would begin. Ten laps, five racers, one victor. Goofy cautiously looked to the crowd, but he was too far away to focus on any faces in particular. But he knew his friends were watching. At least he thought they were – he had no knowledge of a crisis that four of them were going through.

Goofy inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and held his head high. Before he would leave on his journey around the world, he would finish that stone peach for Minnie. For her, he'd win. For Minnie, Daisy, Mickey, Donald, Gyro, Agalma, the villagers at home, Millie, for everyone he'd known - and most importantly, he'd win for himself. The drums began to slow down.

“Here... we... GO!”

~*~

Donald had never been a good liar, nor did he like lying for any long amount of time. If everything that had happened taught him anything, it was that even well-meaning lies had their cost. So when he returned to the Underworld and told Daisy what he'd actually been doing the day before, Daisy threw everything she could lift at him, including a startled Cerberus, and demanded that she and Minnie go to the island with him. Minnie had retreated back to the Underworld after her encounter with Pete, and after a day full of additional self-loathing and internally struggling with the knowledge she held, she had finally told both of her companions what had happened – including the fact that she could create life. Donald had lost his footing, found it, then lost it again when he remembered the prophecy the Fates had told him, with Magica's dark voice ringing in his ears.

_In the near future, a great and bloody war will overtake the mortals! Thousands will perish, and the war will be endless! The Underworld will be flooded with the souls of the innocent! The will of Ares will bring about an end to mankind as we know it!_

But there was no way it would come true. It couldn't. Minnie would never do such a terrible thing, and it would be more terrible to tell her about the prophecy. It was only then Donald relented, saying they would go to warn Mickey in case Pete was going to try anything. Warn him, but that was all, and then they'd leave. Maybe they'd even go watch the race, not that any of them were in a particular mood to cheer.

As they walked on the beach, Donald kept his eyes out for any wandering mermaids and was relieved to see none. Minnie kept her eyes down, holding onto Daisy's hand. She wanted to apologize to Mickey, but she also wasn't sure if she could handle another dagger of harsh words to her heart, even if they were deserved. Or, worse, what if he forgave her only because of some mystic power she had over all souls? Truth be told, all three of them were tense, but not a word was exchanged.

Not until they approached the cave's entrance, and Minnie suddenly lifted her head. “Something's wrong...”

Daisy turned around, confused. “Moreso than everything already is?”

“No, listen!” Minnie let go of Daisy's hand to walk up ahead, entering the cave. “Both of you, listen!”

Donald and Daisy put hands to their ears to try and hear anything, but Donald shrugged. “I don't hear anything.”

“That's just it!” Minnie shrieked, panic flooding her chest. “The Axelias – they're always hard at work! We should be hearing them chisel and dig! Why aren't they working?” She then fled deep into the cave, running as fast as she could, crying out her lost lover's name. “Mickey! Mickey! _Mickeeeyyy!_ ”

Donald and Daisy became equally frightened, chasing after Minnie in the darkness of the cave. The torches were dying without anyone attending to them, but the brightness of the forge still managed to lead the way. There they saw all the Axelias, lost in their confusion and grief, uselessly chanting their master's name over and over again. “Mickey-Mickey-Mickey.”

Daisy screamed as she saw the Axelia with the smashed back, and the other with the ripped arm, only stopping as she covered her beak with her hands. Minnie gasped for air as she saw the destruction before her, trembling as she picked up her tiara with the broken shells. Donald shook from head to toe before grabbing the nearest Axelia and shaking her back and forth. “Where is he? _Where is my nephew?!_ ”

“Mickey-Mickey-Mickey,” was all they would say, no matter how loudly Donald yelled in their faces.

“M-Maybe we can ask the mermaids, the nereids...” Daisy struggled for ideas, looking around for anything that could be a clue, but her hysteria couldn't be ignored. “Oh, what's going on?! There's no way Mickey would do this to his servants!”

Minnie held the tiara close to her chest, tears flooding her eyes. She had no words for this gruesome imagery. Whatever had happened, she couldn't fight the sensation that it was her fault – like all these tragedies had been. It was all her fault. The Axelias were hurt because of her. Mickey was in danger because of her. It was her fault, her fault, her fault, her fault, _why had she even been born_ \- 

“THERE you are!” A new voice came from atop the workshop anvil – Minnie hadn't seen Fethry, also known as the messenger god Hermes, in so long she almost didn't recognize him. He wiped his brow, exhausted from an extensive search. “I've been looking all over the globe for you, little miss! Ares needs you to come to Mount Olympus, prompt-o!”

“Fethry!” Daisy snapped, grabbing his arm and yanking him down. “This is neither the time nor the place to indulge whatever ridiculous temper tantrum Pete is throwing!”

“B-But miss boss lady!” Fethry stumbled, trying to regain his footing, as his feathered feet were almost always floating. “She really needs to come right now!”

Minnie turned her back towards Fethry, head low again, tears streaming down her face. “I don't care what Pete says...I never want to see him again! I never want to return to that awful place!” If she could actually have a choice in how things in her life would turn out, those two were high on the list. Couldn't she at least have that freedom? Or was she no longer deserving of such things?

“You don't understand!” Fethry was pleading now, wildly pointing to high in the sky. “Ares – he's gone bonkers, nuts, off the deep end! He – he said if you don't come up there and do what he says, _he's going to kill Hephaestus!_ ”

That was the only way to make the Axelias stop talking, as they all lifted their heads in silence. Daisy's jaw dropped, Donald grabbed Fethry to make him repeat it, but Minnie had heard enough. She vanished in seconds, and in turn so did the birds.

It had only been mere minutes ago that Pete had revealed his captive, having privately used the mouse as a punching bag to vent out his frustrations before getting ready to start the show. Now on Mount Olympus, Mickey was on full display, bruises and all, tied firmly to a pillar. Mickey pulled and struggled, but to his humiliation, even though he was strong from working in his forge, these ordinary ropes were more than enough to keep him captive. Both arms and legs were held back, and extra layers of rope had been strewn over him just in case. It was crushing his lungs, and the rope was scratching his skin raw. Of course even if he had found some way to free himself, that would do little good as his kidnapper was standing right next to him with the sword Mickey made right to his neck. What a fine way to learn about irony.

Once Hera had laid eyes on the familiar reject, she stood up, knocking her goblet over and spilling its contents out on the floor. “ARES! What are you THINKING? I DEMAND an explanation for THIS...” She couldn't even finish the sentence, not wanting to acknowledge that the helpless boy being presented as some kind of victory trophy had come from her body. Zeus was squinting, trying to recall where he'd seen this familiar scrawny being. Mickey flinched at Hera's harsh tone, not wanting to look at her.

“Aw, pipe down!” Pete was so far gone in his pride and anger that neither ruler could put a dent in his mood. “This ain't got nothin' to do with you! This is between me, the runt, and Aphrodite!”

Hera was close to raising a fist to begin her wrath - and yet did not. Her eyes stayed on Mickey for an uncomfortably long amount of time, staring at his bruises that didn't heal right away, for he'd never taken a taste of ambrosia. He, the eternal mistake, the reminder of the perfect family life she'd never have – he could vanish and be out of Hera's life as long as Pete continued his arrogance. She slowly began to sit back down, picking up the goblet while her hands trembled. It wouldn't be her fault. Nothing had ever been her fault. “If this is the FAULT of Aphrodite...then she SHOULD be punished for her DEEDS. Correct, my HUSBAND?” She drank before he could answer. Surely she'd find the right amount of drink to make her body stop shaking. She wasn't doing anything wrong. She never had.

As for Zeus, he'd only just now recalled what, or who, the boy was, who was hanging his head low as Hera's reaction hadn't surprised him at all. Now that he was being questioned, he jerked. “ **Of course, my wife!** ” He had his own trembles to hide – a god, being injured? Being killed? That was impossible! And if it was impossible, then he didn't need to do anything, and risk his own life, risk his own rule. If he couldn't punish Pete, then everyone would see that Zeus was no ruler – and surely one life wasn't as important as that! “ **We can't step in every time they make a mistake, or they'll never learn!** ” It sounded good to him, and he convinced himself nothing would happen. It couldn't, not under his glorious rule.

Various viewing mirrors were held up, with gods, goddesses and demi-gods slowly beginning to see the state of affairs but far too afraid to watch in person. Every so often one would pop up in the flesh, mostly to see if this was actually happening – such as the case of Gladstone and Mortimer, who, unlike their rulers, weren't content to let guilt take a cozy permanent residence in the back of their minds.

“Ares, this is too far!” That was Mortimer, not daring to take a step forward, his voice becoming more shrill with every word. “Are you nuts? He's one of us, he's a god!” If Ares was willing to go this far after Mickey and Minnie, what did it say about the fates of all the other immortals?

“Yeah, we had no problem when this was just mortals!” Gladstone added, pondering if his good luck could possibly extend to anyone outside of himself. “But this is insane! You can't really be thinking-” 

“MICKEY!” The little crowd of onlookers was bowled and pushed over as the goddess of love barreled her way forward, followed by Donald, Daisy, and Fethry, the last of which hovered among the small audience. When Minnie saw the state Mickey was in, she screeched his name again, only stopping when Pete drew the sword closer to Mickey's throat.

“Ah-ah-ah, Aphrodite!” Pete sneered, taking pleasure that the woman who had dared scorn him was now horrified beyond belief. “Another step closer, and your hubby here becomes headless! He's the only one of us who's never drunk any ambrosia, so once he's hurt, he's hurt for good!”

“ **UNHAND MY NEPHEW THIS INSTANT!** ” Donald bellowed, immediately transforming into his monstrous smoky form, causing the crowd to gasp and cower in terror. He was at his most hideous now, filled with righteous anger and bloodlust, towering high above Pete with claws of shadows stabbing the air. “ **I'LL RIP YOU APART BONE BY BONE!** ”

But Pete showed no fear, continuing to smirk, waving the sword up and down a few inches. “So what's more important, Hades? You gettin' your revenge, or the life of everyone's favorite reject? Hey, you could win either way, since you'll see him in the Underworld after I'm done with him!” He laughed hard, a hand on his belly as he shook with merriment. Donald hissed and snarled, but retreated back into his normal form with a clear face of defeat. Daisy took his arm for comfort, glaring hotly at Pete.

“Don't hurt him,” Minnie begged, tears flooding down her face, unable to even see Pete for her vision could only contain Mickey, who was shutting his own eyes in humiliation. “Please don't hurt him! He's never done anything to you, he's never done anything to anyone! Please let him go!” If she had to beg on her hands and knees to earn his freedom, lick Pete's shoes clean, whatever it took to have Mickey unharmed, she would do so without hesitation. Except for what Pete actually wanted, as it turned out.

Pete clicked his tongue, pleased that things were finally going his way. “I'll let him go...eventually. First, you get to help him out! You're going to bring my statues to life, and start my forever war!” With his free hand, he gestured to the remaining hideous statues that waited for a purpose, with Gladstone and Mortimer feeling worse about it every passing second. “You're going to breathe life into every single last one, and the next ones I make, over and over and over and OVER, and maybe then I'll feel like letting the runt go.”

Startled and confused murmurs flew among the gods – was he serious? Did Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, truly have such a talent? Zeus began to sweat heavily, even more so when Daisy began to yell in his direction. “Do something!” she roared at him, fingers digging into Donald's arm. “He's going to commit genocide, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!”

Zeus swallowed, running his fingers through his lofty beard. He was well aware of Pete's blasé attitude towards physical punishment, and that it wouldn't help. But Zeus had spent so many years chasing women and not doing any real work since he fought his father centuries ago that his creativity muscles were dead. Maybe he could find a way to keep his rule without showing how little it meant in reality. “ **Persephone...of course I will not allow the destruction of our mortals. They are our valued allies and servants. So, I shall make a decree!** ” He cleared his throat, yet still refused to leave his seat. “ **For the greater good, we cannot place one life above millions. We shall let it pass.** ”

“P...Pass?” Donald repeated, his voice dry with shock. “Are you saying... we should just let Mickey die?!” How was this happening? How had the strong, prideful gods that once liberated the mortal plane become so cowardly and despicable? Or had they always been this way, and Donald had been oblivious to this darker side due to his life in the Underworld? “You can't be serious! That is _your son_ being held hostage!”

“Zeus has made a DECREE,” Hera said, although her eyes were not on Donald, but on Mickey, who was slowly beginning to open his eyes. “BLOOD has no value. If there is to be BLAME, then lay it upon APHRODITE, for making a FOOLISH choice for a HUSBAND.” A fresh goblet was in her hand, but she didn't drink it. For some reason it and the last two she'd been drinking hadn't made the trembling stop. Her problems would be gone soon, and then she'd feel better. 

“I'm blaming you!” Daisy spat, having to be restrained by Donald so she wouldn't try to claw Hera's eyes out. “You monster, you wretch, you're all evil, you hear me? ALL OF YOU! Standing around and pushing problems onto everyone else! I won't let you do this!” No one dared respond to her, uncomfortable eyes searching for better places, yet even then they would not move. Let it be someone's danger, someone else's blame.

Minnie was on her knees, holding her beloved tiara to her chest, unable to speak or think. Mickey or the mortals. What kind of choice was that? She stared at Mickey, Mickey whom she adored and treasured above all. Whatever her powers did to others, she knew the agony in her heart was real, that she wanted him to be happy and safe even if it meant she couldn't be a part of it. But she loved the mortals too, the amazing people who could find love and strength with their own two hands and by their own choices. Both of them helped her find her place in the world, gave her ideas and confidence and the courage to pursue them. If not for one, she would not have the other. Now, because both were innocent and precious to her, they would suffer for eternity. All because one man didn't get what he wanted.

One of the remaining seashells from the tiara shattered. A light tremor began to rumble in the floor.

~*~

Bouncer didn't start his trickery and treachery until the first lap had been finished, as he wanted to let Goofy feel a smidgen of victory. That way, it would be all the sweeter when he failed. Once he was close enough, he grabbed the first device from Bombshell's box of goodies. This was a fistful of seemingly ordinary little black balls, but in truth they were filled with an explosive powder that would burst upon impact. He grinned, and then lobbed them as hard as he could. “Bombs away, goof!”

Goofy didn't hear him, focusing intently on the race and guiding his horse. It didn't even matter, because the diminutive explosives hit his helmet – and when they blew, he didn't feel a thing, save for maybe a tickle on his scalp. Bouncer stared in disbelief, letting his horse slow down and the parrot gain a few feet. “Why...that stupid Bombshell, he's good for nothing!” Despite saying so, he grabbed for the next trick – a prototype Bombshell called a “firecracker”, which lit when Bouncer roughly scraped it against his chariot.

In the stadium, Gyro was loudly cheering for Goofy's victory, unaware that Burger and Bombshell were sitting nearby. Their directions were clear – if Goofy gained too good a lead, then they'd grab the friends and make it clear that Goofy's win would be a big loss. As Gyro clapped cheerfully when Goofy cleared lap number two, he realized Agalma wasn't cheering as well. “Is something wrong, Agalma? Don't you want Goofy to win?”

“Of course I do,” Agalma replied. “And he will, he said he would, so he will. So I was thinking about something else.”

Gyro smiled, amused by Agalma's sincerely strong faith. “Well, you know me, I can answer almost any question in the world. If there's something on your mind, let me clear it, so we can cheer on Goofy!”

As usual, Agalma's questions came out of left field, right field, and all fields in any directions. “You said you wanted to explore underwater volcanoes, but that doesn't make any sense to me. How can a volcano be underwater? Water puts out anything hot, so how can anything hot survive underwater?”

Funny enough, that was such an odd line of questioning that it stopped Burger and Bombshell's planned assault right in its tracks. What in the world was she talking about? Gyro by now was used to her out of nowhere curiosities, so he didn't mind indulging her. He pulled out the blueprints and plans that he showed his friends before, pointing out lines in the earth and sea. “Well, Agalma, you see it's not just heat that makes a volcano. The biggest cause is pressure.”

~*~

“Make all the decrees you want,” Pete laughed again, feeling more powerful than he ever had in centuries. “We all know Aphrodite would never let me do it! She'll do exactly what she's told, and be a good girl forever.” He then pinched Mickey's cheek, squeezing it hard between his fingers. “Awww, ain't it sweet how much she likes you? Even cripples can find love! You should be thanking me for proving it to-”

Everyone expected to see blood flow, but no one expected it would be Pete's. Mickey had suddenly chomped down so hard on Pete's hand that blood trailed down his fingers, causing Pete to howl in pain. He punched Mickey hard across the face, but only after three more hits did Mickey finally let go, wearing the new bruises like medals of honor. Pete looked at his wounded hand as if he'd never seen it before, and then grabbed Mickey by the throat, barking so hard that spit flew. “I'll kill you right here and now if you don't start behavin'!”

“Then _do it!_ ” Mickey shouted right back, slamming his head into Pete's forehead, making him temporarily reel. “I won't be your pawn! I won't let you use me to hurt the mortals and to hurt Minnie!” Whatever confusing feelings remained, Mickey was sure of his own worth, and he would not allow himself to be used as a tool for pain and destruction. “I don't care what Zeus says, and I don't care what you say! I am Hephaestus – I am Mickey, god of the mortal plane, and I would _gladly_ give my life to see them live!” Minnie hadn't caused Mickey to respect and admire the mortals – no, they'd done that all their own, with their fantastic inventions and growing minds. The world was a beautiful and changing place, and he would not allow it to be stopped and filled with misery. There was so much they could accomplish, and they deserved better than to be ruled by greed. And just as importantly...

He breathed hard as he saw Minnie's face, the still astonishingly beautiful face whose eyes were a dull red and getting hotter. How cruel that this had been the way to prove that he'd never been a toy to her. This happy girl, this lively girl, she who brought smiles to all who knew her - “Minnie!” he called out to her, and she opened her mouth with no words to give. “I... I forgive you.” If he was brave enough to sacrifice his life, then, shoot, he could be brave enough to see if how he felt for her was real. “I know I didn't make things easy for you, and I was wrong too. I shouldn't have just assumed Aphrodite was no good. I should have given her a chance – I should have given you a chance! Like all the chances you gave me! Where you came from and what you can do, none of that matters! You're...” If he was going to die, and the cold reality of that was sinking in, yet he spoke on, “You're going to do really great things. Because you did really great things for me, and I don't regret any of 'em. So... So I don't want...” He clenched up, trying to push past his own fears. “So I don't want you to have any regrets either. I want you to keep smiling and helping others when I'm gone! The world deserves to know what great things you can do! Please, keep smiling for them! For yourself! Please be happy! I love you!”

He loved her, he loved her, he loved her so much it hurt – Mickey needed Minnie and Minnie needed Mickey – _I don't need nobody_ – he needed her to be happy – if he could die with a promise of her happiness, maybe his life had some meaning after all. Of course he didn't want to die, but if he could have any choice with it, let it be for the mortals, let it be for her, and let it be for himself. It was why he was saying it all, so she could find a way to move on, so she would have no regrets, so she could find a way to exist without him.

Yet it only strengthened Minnie's feelings as to why she loved him and how she could never see another sunset without Mickey. After hearing his true feelings, after hearing all that, she was just supposed to say goodbye and let it all pass? Daisy was sobbing, Donald was holding her while remembering the prophecy the Sisters of Fate had spoken of. Would this be the one that came to pass?

_The will of Ares will bring about an end to mankind as we know it!_

Gladstone and Mortimer were eyeing the ambrosia, wondering if there was a way to get it to Mickey. Fethry was covering his eyes, unable to watch. Hera could no longer look upon the spectacle, whereas Zeus couldn't tear his widened eyes away. But all of them began to notice the movement in ground – the shaking that was beginning to increase – Daisy wildly looked around, having never experienced the phenomenon on Mount Olympus before and Donald was going through a similar shock.

Be happy without Mickey? How was Minnie supposed to do that? That was like asking the ocean to dry or the sky to stop being blue. Minnie hadn't been born for him, but she lived for him now, to choose between a life without him and a life without Goofy, Agalma, Gyro, all the courageous people down below...

Two more seashells popped. Then four.

Pete gave Mickey another punch for his speech, waving his hand that had begun to heal. “You really think love's gunna save the day? You moron, love is what's getting me exactly what I want! It's because she loves you that she'll do just as I ordered! _Love_ is her _weakness!_ Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty – what a riot!” He would have laughed once more, but then the tremors rattled the entire mountain so thoroughly that even he had a tough time keeping balance. It was the worst it'd ever been, with gods and goddess falling over, and the almighty throne Zeus and Hera sat upon began to crack.

And finally, at long last, Minnie spoke.

“Love... is... my... _weakness?_ ”

~*~

As Goofy stayed ahead in the next lap, Bouncer pulled his arm back as far as he could, and then let the firecracker fly, making sure not to aim for the head this time. But as Goofy whipped the reins harder, his elbow pad made the firecracker effortlessly bounce off and fall to the ground. When it did pop, it was right under the rooster's horse, startling it and causing it to smash against Bouncer's chariot, damaging the wheels – the fact that Bouncer could even hold on was a miracle. At this rate, the chariot wouldn't last much longer, nor would Bouncer's patience. “I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS, GOOFY!” If it was the last thing he did, even if he didn't win he'd make sure Goofy would lose! Forget Bombshell's lousy tricks, it was time he settled this the good old fashioned way – force!

Unaware of what was going down on the track, Gyro was using his hands to form tectonic plates pushing against each other. “You see, the ground we walk on is actually made up of plates touching each other, and when they 'hit', pressure builds underneath, containing something we call magma. That can happen underwater too, it really makes no difference!” He pushed his hands together, forming the iconic volcano shape. “The earth's core contains magma, but it doesn't come out right away. The pressure needs to build, and build, and build.”

“And then what?” asked Burger.

“You see, the earth's surface isn't-” Gyro interrupted himself when he saw he had two notorious troublemakers as part of his audience. “...You really want to know?”

“Yeah!” Burger said with enthusiasm, chomping on an old sandwich. “This is really interesting! Ma never told us that the world's made of plates. I love plates, especially when they've got food on them.”

“And I like things that go boom,” Bombshell added.

Gyro glanced to Agalma, who shrugged. “Did it ever occur to you boys that, perhaps, if you'd gotten a proper education, you wouldn't have resorted to a life of thievery and wicked ways? Just a theory, mind you.”

Burger scratched his head, giving it real thought. “Gee, Ma always said learning was for the weak.”

“I can guarantee you if you learned what a meat-shield was, you'd stop agreeing to be one.”

As Gyro began to lecture the Beagles on the importance of lessons, Agalma noticed a particular note detailed on the ocean exploration scroll. She picked it up, squinting. “Say, Gyro, the name of this ocean...You think an underwater volcano is there?”

Gyro leaned over to inspect what she was pointing out. “That is one of my theories, yes. Why do you ask?”

“It's just an odd coincidence.” Agalma put her finger underneath the name of the ocean. “That's where Millicent's family was sailing when they died in the storm.”

Bombshell raised his hand. “Can we go back to the boom?”

“Oh, yes, of course!” Gyro turned back to his now attentive companions, glad not to discuss someone's demise. “Where was I? … Hm, ah, of course! When the pressure builds, and builds, and builds...that's when it goes boom!”

~*~

And boom Minnie went.

In the sea many years ago, a young maiden met her death in the ocean's harsh waves. In her dying thoughts, she thought of the sculptor she left behind, and how dearly she loved him. She wished with all her heart that he wouldn't be alone. She thought only of this love, let it consume her whole with her last breath as her body happened to fall into the newly born volcano below the bubbling waters. She loved, loved, loved so deeply that it could rival the love of Gaia herself. Over many years, that love grew and developed, evolved and strengthened, and then, like Gaia's love, at last gave birth to something incredible.

Incredible was first word that came to everyone's minds when they saw the ground underneath Minnie split open, and a torrent of lava spew upward high into the sky, coating the goddess but not muting her scream of rage. None could understand what they were seeing, as the remains of Minnie's tiara first melted, and then burst apart, latching onto Minnie and forming shapes. The lava on Minnie's body cooled, and a threatening shadow loomed. She then stepped out slowly, one footstep at a time, with her feet making the floor sizzle and steam underneath her. No longer was she wearing innocent white robes of purity and delicacy. The lava that had splattered onto her had formed pink and red armor that coated her body, from a helmet that boasted a fiery mane streaming down, to heart-shaped patterns across her chest and arms, a massive shield that was bigger than she was, and a burning spear clutched hard in her right hand. She was still beautiful – but now in a frightening manner, the beauty of a forest turning into ashes. Her eyes remained red, and would forevermore be red, now that she had decided to live for herself.

Love could be soft and gentle, yes – but appearances can be deceiving. Lava too is beautiful when first seen, but the touch is as hot as any lover's passion, and burns twice as deeply.

“Ares.” Her voice echoed across Mount Olympus as the lava stream behind her began to die. “This is your first and final warning. Release Mickey.”

Pete had begun to consider the possibility that this was some sort of lucid dream he was having after trying one of Mortimer's latest experiments. He blinked hard, and rubbed his eyes – no, Aphrodite was still dressed as a soldier, this was actually real life. The rest of the mountain had fallen into silence, also in the same utter astonishment that this was happening. There was no explanation they could come up with, although none would have ever guessed that a mortal's love could be just as powerful as a god's. Pete regained some of his senses as he remembered he still presumably had the winning card in his hand. “J-Just you hold on there! I don't care what kind of fancy transformation you do, I can still end the runt here and now if you don't do what I say! I'm the one with the real power here! I am Ares, God of War!”

God of speed, he was not, though. Even with all his so-called experience, he couldn't have stopped the spear that was thrown right at his face – perhaps even Zeus wouldn't have caught it in time. It sent Pete flying backwards, destroying many statues that had the unfortunate position of being behind him. The spear was lodged in Pete's helmet, missing his excuse of a brain by mere inches. He sat up, trying to pull it out, but found the weapon so blisteringly hot he couldn't last two seconds – and now it made his helmet just as hot, burning his scalp with pain he couldn't believe was real. He scrambled to pull the helmet off, but it was now melting onto his fingers, creating blisters that popped as quickly as they appeared, spreading agony in every direction. Each of these was a new, horrible experience for Pete that wouldn't leave or heal as quickly as all other battle wounds he had experienced before.

By then Minnie caught up, launching a kick to his belly – one so hot that it melted another hole in his armor. Then came another kick, this one to his legs, sending him spinning and reeling. Her spear lay on the ground, in a puddle of what was once a intimidating helmet, and she called it to her hand with one flick of her wrist. Without sparing a second she jumped into the air, delivering one more hard kick to Pete's face so he'd meet the floor. No one had time to register the last action she made before she delivered another, and another, endless and quick with screeching cries of fury.

“Love is my weakness?” Minnie bellowed, on the floor once more and twirling her spear around, creating a flurry of flames to rain down upon him. “Love is my _weakness_? LOVE IS MY STRENGTH!” Pete tried to roll away from the rain of pain, making a grab for his sword, but Minnie was jabbing his armor over and over with her spear, making it melt as well. Whenever she struck skin, there was barely enough time to bleed before the agonizing heat cauterized the wound. “The strongest warriors fight for their loved ones! To defend their homes, to protect those they hold dear! Love gives them courage! Love gives them power!”

Donald and Daisy had equally matched dropped jaws, but reality came back to Donald quicker. “Mickey! Daisy, hurry!” He grabbed his wife by the hand and raced to the pillar. Together they were able to untie the ropes, and Mickey fell to the ground, Donald catching him. As Daisy began to grow a small sapling for a new walking stick, Donald steadied Mickey to his feet. “Are you all right?”

“I...” What kind of question was that, at this time, at this place? He wordlessly gestured at the impossible fight that was causing lesser-willed gods to either faint or run. The display was alarming – and, okay, he couldn't lie, also deeply satisfying in particular areas. If Mickey wasn't in love with Minnie before, he sure as goodness gracious was _now_. Homina homina homina.

Pete miraculously found his footing, and summoned up as many weapons as he could hold, but with every swipe and every motion, Minnie melted them away without even breaking a sweat. Which was the exact opposite of Pete, as her intense heat was making him do nothing but sweat. Even worse, the pain wasn't leaving – he was getting burned, and it _kept_ hurting! Other wounds would dull, maybe ache, but this was lasting! This was endless! Even if he stopped moving, if he stopped breathing, it continued to hurt! A cut or a punch, one strike and you could move on – but a burn seeps into the skin, pressing into pores and nerves, keeping the memory alive without end. The God of War had governed over battle for so long that loss had never occurred to him, that pain other than that which he inflicted could exist. For centuries he was content to belittle and tower over those who could never oppose him. He'd never expected or even wanted a fair fight – and certainly never thought he'd be in a fight where he would lose. That was causing pain as well... although not as much pain as the actual burns themselves.

He'd never been burned before, and it HURT! IT HURT IT HURT IT HURRRRRRRRRT! “This – this ain't how it's supposed to go!” Pete had summoned up the biggest, largest metal club he could dream up, but as he locked it with Minnie's spear, it too began to dribble. Horror of horrors, he found himself being pushed back, feet dragging in the clouds. He couldn't even land one hit on her. Was she too small? Too fast? Or was he in too much shock and pain to be accurate? “I'm supposed to win! I'm supposed to be the strongest! I'm the god of war! You're – You're just Aphrodite!”

“I am _not_ Aphrodite!” Minnie began to smack away at the club, while Pete desperately tried to keep up, each new blow making another scorching mark on his armor and then his skin. It was all he could do to defend himself and he couldn't even do that. Minnie was relentless, never stopping, never pausing, eyes full of revenge and movements full of fury. If anyone was going to listen to her, it would be now and they would never forget her intentions again. All of Mount Olympus shook, entire rooms cracking and capsizing. “I never agreed to be Aphrodite! I am Minnie, goddess of love, and I shall protect love! I will fight for love! And right now – I'd _love_ to give you the punishment you deserve!”

She drove her spear into the ground, and once more a searing geyser of lava came forward, but this time it was aimed at Pete, drowning his agonized screams. The lummox was encased in lava, the streams running all over his body and pooling endlessly around him. It refused to harden, and continued to burn, burn, burn. He'd live, no surprise, but every inch of him was burnt beyond recognition, the smell of cooked flesh giving several gods their first taste of nausea. Now that he was covered in lava, lava made from the will of a goddess, the healing process wouldn't begin for a long time. Being gods, who knew how long a long time was? Until then, his every waking moment would be nothing but convulsions of torture. Even now as he laid on the floor, he couldn't move or breathe without breaking skin and giving new meanings to the word ache. He whined with stinging tears, babbling incoherently, though many could guess he was saying “I'm...the...god...of...war...”

Minnie looked down upon her victim, feeling no pity or remorse. “And should I ever find you harmed another mortal or my precious Mickey again...I will come back.” Her dangerous eyes surveyed the crowd, letting them know the warning was not solely for him. The whimpering she heard let her know the message was received.

No, her powers were not for creating love or instilling it in others. Her powers were for protecting it, as Agalma protected Goofy's heart, letting it heal by showing him he didn't have to be alone. Love had never needed Minnie's help, but it wouldn't suffer for it either. This was her purpose, and she would be proud to carry it. 

She slowly turned her back toward the gods, and when she saw Mickey standing upright, her vicious personality vanished. “Mickey!” She threw away her spear, running right toward him, her sweet as sugar voice returning as she tackled Mickey in one of her classic huge hugs.

“Mickey Mickey Mickeeeyyy!” Minnie cried, her touch not burning or harming Mickey at all. No, to him, her touch was warm and very enjoyable. “I'm so sorry about everything! I was wrong! I should have told you who I was from the start! I should have been honest! I'll never ever lie to you again, I promise! If you never want to see me again, I'll do that too! I'll do whatever you want, just don't ever throw yourself away again! Please don't-”

Once again, Mickey found himself defying expectations. During their relationship, every kiss on the lips had been started by Minnie, but for today, it was Mickey who held Minnie's shoulders and pressed his mouth to hers. Daisy was so exhausted by the day's events that she began to laugh happily at this sight, and even Donald shook his head with a smile, trying to hide the fact he'd been so afraid for Mickey's life that tears had formed. Mickey held the kiss long enough to make sure Minnie would calm down – and maybe a few seconds longer than that, he couldn't help it – before pulling away with a smile. “Minnie...can we start over?”

Minnie needed a minute, reeling from what she considered a pretty passionate embrace. She didn't register the words right away, stars in her eyes. “Huh?”

“Can we start over?” Mickey repeated, touching Minnie's hand. “And this time...let's just... be together. We're gunna fight, we might even lie, but I think...” He glanced at Donald. “That's kinda normal. We can't be perfectly happy all the time...and maybe trying to do that is what made everything so rotten.” Mickey would never call himself an expert on this subject, but maybe he'd learned a thing or two. “It's okay if we stumble or get things wrong. It's okay if we get mad at each other. I like you, Minnie... all of you. Even the side of you that's crazy and annoying.”

Minnie looked down at their entwined hands, and then back up. “You're stubborn,” she decided, “And hardheaded. And you don't listen to people. And you pity yourself too much. And...I like all of that too.” She smiled, and then found herself giggling. How strange, to tell him all the things she didn't like about him, yet still adore him from head to toe. This felt natural, this felt real. “I love you, Mickey.”

“I love you too, Minnie.” They held each other, content for the first time in ages. Things weren't going to be exactly like they were before, but they had decided the loss wasn't too terrible. The future was unpredictable and exciting in that way. There was still so much to discover about this odd thing called love. No one person could ever rationalize it completely, no one person would ever truly need it, but those who wanted it would surely have it if they believed.

Minnie and Mickey stood back up, and Daisy slapped Minnie hard on the back. “Am I ever going to get an explanation for what just happened?”

Minnie looked down at her new outfit, lifting her foot and waving her hand to see it all for herself. “I... don't think so. I don't even know what happened, it just felt right. Does this look good on me?”

“Sure does,” said Mickey, taking an admiring glance at Minnie's backside.

Donald rolled his eyes. “Great, thousands of years passed and only now he enters puberty.”

Mickey playfully nudged him, but then became serious. “I wouldn't have said all that I did, and done all that I did, if it wasn't for you. You put some sense in my head...and you actually came for me. So, thank you...uncle Donald.”

Donald stared as the words repeated in his head in an endless refrain. _Uncle Donald. Uncle Donald. Uncle Donald._ Uncle Donald swiftly turned around. “H-Hang on, I gotta sneeze.”

“Oh, let your feelings show, you big baby!” Daisy lightly shouted at her husband. “It's okay to cry!”

“I AM NOT CRYING!” Donald said as he was definitely crying.

Daisy, Minnie and Mickey laughed, yet the good times weren't allowed to roll just yet. As Minnie's laughter settled down, her eyes slid over to the so-called rulers on their throne, who had held onto each other during the entire battle and only now registered that they might be safe – although judging from the way Minnie was looking at them, this might not have been true. Zeus shoved Hera off, sitting up straight and clearing his throat.

“ **Aphro – er, Minnie, goddess of love!** ”

~*~

It was the final lap of the race, and Goofy would have been surprised to learn he had kept the lead the entire way if he let himself think about it. However he wasn't letting himself think about anything but winning, which meant laser focus and only staring right ahead. That's why he didn't see Bouncer getting dangerously close, and then driving his horse hard to the right, slamming Goofy into the wall – at least, that was the plan. Goofy was surprised for a moment, but when his shoulder hit the wall, he didn't feel an iota of pain, thanks to his extra protection. All he let out was a confused “Huh?”

Worse for Bouncer, the attack destroyed his already suffering wheel. The chariot toppled over, dropping Bouncer to the ground in front of the other racers. They swerved to avoid him just in time, and also gave Goofy enough space so that no one had any hopes of catching up to him. Gyro was now deep in the lesson about how mountains were different from volcanoes when he remembered that a race was happening, and as he took a look, he jumped out of his seat. “He's doing it! He's going to win!”

“Of course he is,” Agalma said with a smile, rising from her seat. “He said he would.” For her. Thinking about that made her heart do the weird thing again.

Even Burger and Bombshell began to hoot and holler, hoping Bouncer wouldn't hear them. Gyro called out Goofy's name, the Beagles followed suit, and so did the people behind them, and behind them, and within seconds it became a glorious, hearty chant throughout the crowd. Everyone was rooting for the definition of underdog, because if he could win, anyone could, and in him they saw the greatness of humanity. He was only himself, only a mortal, and he was doing something fantastic. 

“GO, GOOFY, GO! GO, GOOFY, GO! GO, GOOFY, GO!”

They screamed, they roared, they cheered, and then everyone danced as Little Helper's hooves crossed the finish lap for the tenth time. Cries of elation exploded throughout the coliseum, and even the losing racers felt great exhilaration in Goofy's win. The rooster came in second, the parrot third, the horse fourth, and Bouncer had to crawl to his embarrassing last place. Save for Bouncer, they would have been pleased to congratulate Goofy on his well-earned victory, pulling their chariots aside and climbing out. There was just one problem.

“He did it!” Gyro was celebrating, twirling Agalma around as she giggled. “He did it! He...He's still doing it. Uh-oh.”

Goofy was in fact so intent on winning that he didn't realize he already had, and was still running laps around and around. At this rate it didn't look like he'd ever stop.

Burger finished the last of his sandwich, and began to fish for whatever other food he had in his clothes. “Look, it's not like we call him Goofy for _no_ reason.”

“We'd better get down there,” Agalma decided, taking the lead down the stairs with the others following. When they were on the race track, Goofy had yet to stop, and no one was sure how to do it. Bombshell then saw one of the foods Burger had stowed away was a carrot, and he yanked it out, although Burger whined about it. He then prodded Gyro with it.

“Huh? ...Oh, good idea!” Gyro complimented as he took the vegetable. “You get an A+ for that one, Bombshell.”

“Huh. I didn't know there were grades higher than F.”

Gyro stepped forward, cleared his throat, and then waved the carrot high in the air. “Little Helper! It's lunch-time!”

The moment those words hit Little Helper, he screeched to a halt. Goofy, however, did not, as the force of the sudden stop sent him flying from the carriage - 

“ _YAAAAAA-HA-HA-HOOOOIE!_ ”

And smacking headfirst into a wall, thankfully protected by his new helmet. Agalma rushed over as Goofy toppled to the ground, unharmed but incredibly dizzy. As he tried to sit up, he saw Agalma watching over him. “Uhhh... did Aphrodite send over three more Agalmas, cause I don't think I can handle that many.”

“You won, Goofy,” Agalma said happily, offering her hand.

“I won?” Goofy took her hand and shakily began to stand up, letting it all sink in. “I won? I won. I... won. I won!” Having confidence in what you were doing, and then accomplishing the thing, were two entirely different matters. “I won! I won, I won, I won!” He picked up Agalma, spinning her around. “I won!” She laughed, repeating after him, and they danced arm in arm, singing that he won, he won, he won. Goofy had never been more proud of himself in his entire life, and he never wanted to let that feeling go. He never wanted to let Agalma go either.

Speaking of people who had a hard time letting things go, Bouncer dragged himself into this happy-go-lucky scene, all the anger exhausted out of him. “I don't believe this!” he moaned. “I did everything I could, and he won? What do I do now? If I go back to Ma with this, she'll tan my hide!”

As Gyro stuck the carrot in Little Helper's mouth, he held up a finger. “What says you have to go back to your mother?” Bouncer blinked – the idea of doing otherwise had never occurred to him. Burger was just as stunned, and Bombshell merely shrugged. “If I may, gentleman, perhaps your talents lay elsewhere.”

“But punching people is all I know how to do,” Bouncer lamented.

“Only because no one has taught you otherwise.” Gyro clapped his hands together, an idea bubbling forth. “You know, Goofy is going to split the prize money with me, so I can make brand new inventions. But I can't do it all alone, and the more hands I have, the faster I can help everyone around the world! What say I take you all on as my apprentices and students?”

Bombshell raised a hand. “Can I learn more about things that go boom?”

Burger raised his hand. “Instead of giving my teacher an apple, can I eat the apple?”

And lastly Bouncer raised his. “Can I see a doctor? I think I have a concussion.”

“Yes, yes, and... oh, goodness, let's go do that.” Gyro waved towards his canine companions. “Goofy, Agalma, I'll catch up with you later!” But even as he said that, he doubt he was being heard.

Goofy and Agalma were still dancing along, holding each other 's hands, reveling in not only victory but accomplishment and their realized hopes for the future. Because of their hard work and faith in one another, they were going to get their dreams. There was so much to learn about everything, and now they'd taken the first step together. Goofy couldn't have done it without Agalma – couldn't have moved on, couldn't have made more friends, couldn't have seen the sun for its beauty – and his heart was healed.

As for Agalma, she still didn't understand this floaty, blissful feeling that fluttered throughout her body as she danced with Goofy, but she hoped it never stopped. Maybe he could tell her about this feeling that made her want to be in his arms and stare into his eyes, this feeling that his happiness was the most important thing in the world to her. Did this feeling have a name?

~*~

As Mickey, Donald and Daisy craned their necks to look at the king of the gods who had dared spoken, each look was filled with bitterness. Minnie was walking towards the rulers, tall and proud for someone so small. Other gods backed up, some even bowing graciously in case her anger was directed towards them. Zeus scrambled as he talked, hoping he could butter up someone who had murder in their eyes. “ **You must be commended after defeating Ares, the God of War! All of Mount Olympus thanks you for your noble deed! Name any gift, and it shall be given unto you!** ” He grinned at her, his palms open, waiting to hear her heart's desire. One little gift and they'd be safe and sound, and maybe then she'd leave and everything would go back to normal.

Minnie wordlessly summoned her spear back into her hand, and with one mighty movement, launched it right into the throne, shattering it into pieces. Hera shrieked as she fell down, and Zeus stayed on his rear, trying to understand what just happened as he sat among the shards. Many remaining gods fled, deciding this was the final straw, and they weren't going to come back unless they were certain they'd never make her angry. Gladstone wound up hopping into Mortimer's arms, and he'd lost all the feeling in his legs. Yet neither of them left – they actually wanted to see what would happen, and couldn't help but be a little amused. “What in the world makes you think I'd want anything from you?” Minnie snapped, the ferociousness back in her tone. “It's your fault this all happened in the first place, because you never want to do any real work!”

“How DARE you speak to the KING of the GODS in such a MANNER?” Hera barked, but when Minnie had her spear again, she quietly pointed it at Hera. She yelped and hid behind her husband. The scene of such supposedly powerful and all-knowing leaders made some immortals snort and giggle, perhaps overwhelmed by all they'd seen. 

“The only good thing either of you have done was free the mortals, and make Mickey!” Minnie growled, hands on her hips. “You're not the King and Queen of the gods – if you can't enforce the rules, you can't make the rules! One good deed doesn't mean you get off scot-free for eternity! From now on, you are just plain, ordinary, run-of-the-mill gods like the rest of them! You hold no power over anyone!” As she finished her declaration, she looked at Mickey, wondering if she'd stolen his thunder. As their son, he had the final right to tell them off.

Yet as Mickey looked upon his parents, he couldn't think of anything to tell them. It seemed so pointless now. He didn't need them, nor did he want them. He had a better family. Mickey took Minnie's hand. “C'mon, let's go. I don't think this place deserves any of us.”

“Well said,” Donald commented, still not crying and no one could prove it shut up.

“Where should we go?” asked Daisy.

Mickey looked at Minnie. “I'd like to fix my girls first... then maybe I can work on a new tiara for you.” Seeing the fury and beauty of volcanoes had gotten him inspired, while also reminding him of the hot furnace he missed.

Minnie squeezed Mickey's hand, at her most beautiful when she smiled at the man she loved. “Yes. Let's go home.”

As they began to leave, Donald exhaled a breath he'd been holding on for far too long, relieved that the prophecy had been avoided. Yet, it was at that moment he recalled another one, one that had been so long ago that everyone had assumed it would never come to pass. His last look was toward the remains of the throne, at the pitiful faces of Zeus and Hera who would never erase their guilt and shame. When he turned to rejoin his family, he saw Gladstone and Mortimer offering Mickey a drink of ambrosia, and Mickey politely declined. Mickey joined hands with Minnie, who joined hands with Daisy, who waited for Donald's hand. He squeezed it tightly.

It had been said once that the son of Zeus would take away his throne – it just never said the son would do it himself.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final section of my story has completed, so it's time to doll out some thanks.
> 
> To my close pals for their wonderful friendship, ones who kept me going with their smiles - Boxlunches, Palooka, Chllstarr, Greta, friends old and new within the Mice Discord, without those last pushes I wouldn't be here!
> 
> Once again, a big thanks toward my great gal Angie, who is the co-creator of Millicent! And, by that line, Agalma too!
> 
> A special thanks towards Disney Diligent, who helped inspire/create the final look for Aphrodite Minnie.
> 
> As always, super ultra huge mega thanks to my fantastic editors, Drucilla and Blueshifted! Funny enough, this story seemed to create the most division between them, one adoring lines that the other insisted be kicked out! XD Thankfully I as the narcissistic writer get to ultimately choose =P But yes, these two put in hard work and great effort for my little hobby, and deserve all the praise in the world!
> 
> Finally, thank YOU, yes YOU, all of my fans for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging, and for ultimately enjoying this wild ride! I hope you all had a good time, and I also hope you stick around for next lovey-dovey tale!

“You don't have to do this, you know.” Donald knew his statement was obvious, yet he felt a need to say it anyway. “You don't owe him anything... except maybe a kick to his almighty shin.”

“I know,” Mickey casually replied, finishing the last strikes with his hammer upon his project. “But when I had this in mind, it was for someone huge, and he's the only guy big enough to use it. Besides, I like makin' stuff for folks.”

“Oh, Mickey.” Minnie was sitting on his workbench, admiring him with a swooning sigh. “You've got such a big heart.”

“If you two are going to get all lovey-dovey,” Daisy warned, averting her eyes, “I'm out of here.”

One of the newly repaired Axelias came over to wipe away Mickey's sweat, and he gave her a smile. “Thanks, Axelia.”

“You-Are-Welcome-Welcome-Welcome.” This one had the newest feature, a movable mouth. It was still a work in process, so her smile was lopsided, but it was still a smile she chose to make.

Mickey brought the hammer down one last time, then decided he was finished, pulling back to admire his work. “What do you think?”

“Not bad, not bad at all.” Donald offered a thumbs-up, grinning with pride.

Daisy snickered. “I can't wait to hear the mortals' reaction when they see it for the first time.”

“It's positively perfect.” Minnie came up to kiss Mickey's cheek, and he chuckled. “Oh, Mickey, will you ever stop being amazing?”

“Only when you stop bein' cute as a button.” Mickey nuzzled his nose to hers, causing Minnie to giggle wildly.

“Guys, seriously, I'm gunna hurl.” Daisy pretended to gag with a finger in her mouth. “Look, can we get this over with already? The sooner we can drop it off, the sooner we can go sailing. The ocean misses us.”

Mickey laughed, and placed his hand on the project, his other hand steady on his walking stick. “Fine, let's get going! It's not going to deliver itself!”

Thus the four of them reappeared on Mount Olympus – it had been several months since they last touched the cloudy paradise. No, it didn't deserve them, but Mickey had ultimately decided he could grace them with his presence when he felt like it. It wouldn't be too often, but he found such joy in his creations that he wanted everyone to have them. They popped up near the rebuilt thrones of Hera and Zeus, now separated. Hera flinched when she saw them, ready to duck and hide if need be. Zeus grimaced until he saw the unusual glimmer in Mickey's hands.

“I have brought you a gift,” Mickey declared, his back tall and proud. “I want nothing in return. I call it... a lightning bolt!”

Zeus' eyes went as big as the planet itself, and he knelt down to take the mighty yellow arch in his hands. “ **Such electricity... such power... I have never felt anything so magnificent! I feel a thousand years younger!** ” He burst with glee, hoisting the mighty weapon above his head. It was the best toy he'd ever gotten, and he wanted to play with it right now. He opened the clouds with his hands, trying to find a good place to strike. “ **Maybe there, or, no wait, how about here? But there's good too...** ”

Hera eyed the group suspiciously. “You SAY you bring a GIFT, yet you want NOTHING? What MADNESS are you SPEAKING of?”

“Careful.” Mickey wagged a finger. “My girlfriend can kick your butt.” Hera promptly shut up, cowering from Minnie's gleeful grin. “Aw, naw, I meant it! And I want all of Mount Olympus to know that I'd be happy to craft them anythin' they want. I need projects to keep me busy.”

“And he's very good at everything he makes,” Minnie cooed, snuggling up to Mickey's free arm.

Nearby gods found themselves piqued by curiosity, and it was Fethry who dared to speak first. “Say, could I get new shoes? These ones keep molting their feathers!”

“I wouldn't mind a new vanity mirror,” Gladstone happened to comment.

Even Mortimer found himself wanting in on this. “Okay, if you're that good, maybe you can bring some new life to my goblets? If you can.”

Daisy groaned. “We're never going to go sailing at this rate.”

Donald put his arm around Daisy's shoulders. “Oh, how you suffer.”

Gods and goddesses began to line up in front of Mickey, asking for jewelry and armor and other trinkets. Out of the corner of his eye, Mickey saw Pete hiding behind one of his deformed statues, and he quickly retreated when he saw Minnie's eyes on him. Judging from the smell, he still hadn't fully recovered. But he would one day, and perhaps he'd foolishly try for revenge. There would always be people who didn't learn from their mistakes.

There would also always be people who became better from their mistakes. Mickey smiled at Minnie, but then blinked as he saw her licking her lips with a puzzled look. “Minnie? What is it?”

“Hm? … Oh, it's nothing. Just...” She shrugged. “I have the oddest craving for peaches again.”

That probably had to do with Goofy placing the finished carved peach in her temple, having felt for some reason that it was the right thing to do. He hadn't seen Minnie or any of his unusual friends in all those months, and while he missed them, he wouldn't allow his sadness to hold him back anymore. It was the last act he did in the village before he left for his trip around the world with Agalma, and with his newfound confidence, he also brought the story of Millicent, Agalma, Aphrodite, and himself to every shore. The story spread throughout the land, although a few creative individuals decided that Agalma was too lazy a name, and decided Galatea was far more suitable. It is the nature of stories to change, after all.

The stories of Zeus and Hera, of Hades and Persephone, of Hephaestus and Aphrodite also changed as the decades came and went, with some believing Persephone was Hades's prisoner, and others thinking Aphrodite saw Ares on the side. One day the history became legend, the stuff of fairy tales and impossibility. People no longer needed the gods, and thus couldn't believe they'd ever been around in the first place. Yet these stories stayed, inspiring generations in many ways – art, music, theater, and even morality for a few. Even though such tales couldn't possibly be true, they were still told and enjoyed, even in museums of the highest education.

That's where a young boy was admiring a carving of the mighty Hephaestus presenting a gift to the lovely Aphrodite, although the stone was so worn down it was impossible to tell what the gift was. The mouse boy smiled in admiration – so the Greeks and Romans believed even a powerful god could have been disabled? He looked down at his own legs, forever bound in a wheelchair, and felt an odd sense of pride. If Hephaestus could be capable of great things, maybe he could too. With a funny chuckle, he touched his wheels, ready to move on. But when he lifted his head, his jaw dropped in shock.

What a coincidence – the prettiest girl in his class, and who he had a gigantic crush on, was also in the museum, looking at a nearby vase depicting Persephone. What were the odds? The boy always wanted to talk to her, to have that melodious voice directed at him, but had also felt that because of his disability, he never had a chance. Yet... he glanced back at Hephaestus. If that guy could land the most beautiful goddess, the boy had no excuse not to try.

He cleared his throat. “Say, uh... hi there!”

The mouse girl blinked and turned around, equally surprised to see him. “Oh! I didn't know you were here too!”

She responded she responded she responded – CALM DOWN. “Uh, y-yeah! I love this exhibit.” Thank goodness the wheelchair was blocking her from seeing how hard his tail was wagging.

“Me too.” The girl giggled, nodding towards the vase. “These stories are so romantic! I just love them! Which one is your favorite?”

She wanted to know more about him she wanted – FOR REAL, CALM DOWN. The boy hoped he wasn't blushing as hard as he thought he was, pointing at the stone carving. “Well, uh, gee, I always thought Hephaestus was kinda neat. Even though his legs didn't work, he made gold servants and lightning bolts and all kind of nifty things.”

“Oooh, I love that story!” the girl squealed, walking over to see the carving closer. “And he won the heart of the fair Aphrodite! I bet they loved each other sooo much!”

“Yeah, me too.” The boy scratched his chin, wondering if there were gods since his luck had never been so good. “Say, uh...the cafe here ain't too bad! You... maybe... wanna grab some lunch together?”

The girl turned to face him slowly, her own delicate chinks pinking. “Really? … I'd love to!” She smiled shyly, hands curled up together. “You know, I've always wanted to tell you how great your art is.”

“W-what?” the boy stammered, his disbelief at new levels.

“Those drawings you're always making in class... I think they're really amazing! They're so lifelike! Do you think you could show me how to do it sometime?”

“YEAH! … I-I mean, yeah, sure, okay.” As long as she didn't know she was the subject of more than half of the things he drew, then he was fine with showing her his doodles. “I guess I could show you my sketchpad over lunch.”

“Great! Let's get going!” The girl took a step forward, but then hesitated. “Do you need help pushing your wheelchair?”

“Naw, I'm just fine,” the boy said, beginning to roll. “And, y'know, I'm glad you asked instead of doin' it right away. Folks see me like this and assume I can't do nothin'.”

“That's very unfair of them...but if I ever make you feel like that, please let me know.”

“Sure thing!” He smiled at her, and she smiled at him, and they began to exit the exhibit together.

But as they left, the boy could've sworn he saw the stone-faced Hephaestus smile. It must have been his imagination.


End file.
